Chapter 9
Kate
“Dude, I really don’t want to go.” Claire scowled as she dragged her messenger bag on the ground behind her. The sound of it skidding across the pavement was like nails on a chalkboard.
“Pick up your bag, and shut up, dude,” I said mockingly.
We were standing right in front of the school. It was beautiful. So welcoming, tucked away in a nice little park area in a nice, quietly quaint neighborhood. It was a gray brick building. Tall. It looked more like a castle than a school.
“I just don’t want to go.” She looked pitiful. Like she was a little girl, with a puppy — and someone had just run over it.
“Jesus Christ, Claire,” I groaned. “You’re like a broken record!”
I bundled my arms close to me, irritated that I was still outside even having the conversation. Why couldn't she just be like normal kids? Bitch a little bit, fine — but when push came to shove, just suck it up and do what you have to do!
“I know you don’t want to go to school,” I said. “I get that! It’s been loud and clear!”
She hated school. She even hated it more than I hated school — and when I was in high school, I’d really, really hated school. But no matter how much harder she had it, I still wasn’t jiving with the whole I-don’t-want-to-go scenario.
“You have to go. May as well make the best of it,” I said as I looked at the bag on the ground, sternly.
I could see my breath with every word that I spoke, and as I watched it, and her continue to ignore me, my irritation grew. I was freezing to death, and she was really ignoring me.
“Claire!” I yelled, just before waving my hands in front of her face.
She was looking down at the snow still packed tightly on the ground, and her cheeks were blustery red from the cold.
“Yeah, yeah!” she groaned, finally glancing up at me.
“Now pick your backpack up,” I warned, setting my gaze down at the bag.
“Not a backpack if it goes on your shoulder,” she muttered, barely audible enough for me to hear.
“Keep it up,” I warned again.
“Whatever!” she mocked, slinging her head back to make the most ridiculous face I’d ever seen. “I’ll do whatever you say, master!”
I rolled my eyes as she pulled her bag back up over her shoulder and slipped away, toward the large oak-looking doors.
“Atta girl!” I yelled from behind her, only to receive a glare as she whipped her head to look over her shoulder as she walked.
She held up her hands in fake reassurance, gesturing two resounding thumbs ups — and even though they were meant to be disrespectful, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and chuckle a bit. Only Claire could put enough contempt into a thumbs up to make it look like a middle finger. At least she was in school. Hopefully, everything else would follow suit.
I sighed as I watched the humungous brown doors close behind her, and held my hand up, feeling my eyes watering from the cold. Gesturing a cab in the freezing cold was always a pain in the ass. I couldn’t get warm fast enough.
But no matter how long it took, I was always happy to jump into the warm and toasty back seat. No matter how foul most of them smelled. The warmth was just too good to not be happy with, and the cab that I’d managed to hail was no different.
The warmth was the first thing I felt as I leaped into the backseat of the car, but the smell was a quick second. It smelled like stale cheeseburgers, BO, and a spray or two of Axe. My nose tingled — burned, even — and I choked as I told the cabby where to take me.
I still had my coffee date with Melinda to worry about. Otherwise, I might have told him to take me to the nearest shop to warm up—a place where I could thaw without having my nose assaulted. But I had to get across town, and a smelly cab was the only way to do that. So there I sat, for a whole hour, with my breath held on and off for about half of it. The other half of the ride, I was sad to say, proved that a person’s senses could be obliterated.
I no longer smelled anything at all, and I was pretty sure my nose had some sort of permanent damage.
When I finally managed to sit inside Melinda’s office, I realized that I was still trying to regain my sense of smell, and I probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t basically buried my nose into the brim of my coffee cup and inhaled deeply for a good twenty minutes.
“Are you trying to snort coffee?” Melinda joked.
“I wish I could bathe in it after sitting in that raunchy cab,” I said, enjoying the steam filling up my nostrils as I looked around.
Melinda’s office was so small it was almost depressing. Still, it was a whole hell of a lot better than what it had been before. Before, all she’d had was a tiny desk just outside my dad’s office. It was about time she had her own space.
But luckily, a few things were finally — after I didn’t even know how many years — moved around to accommodate the woman, who I pretty much deemed a saint.
Seriously, anyone who could put up with my dad for as long as she had, without being related and forced to, was a serious angel if I’d ever seen one. She deserved a little space. In my mind, she deserved a whole lot more than this tiny area, which had only been a copy room before she took it over.
They only managed to get the space open for her because copier sizes decreased as the decades passed, and that meant the amount of space needed decreased as well. They only needed two copy machines per floor now. I was relieved they’d given her the space here.
That wasn’t the only reason I was relieved. Claire was in school, hopefully for the day. Despite all her protests, she’d been mostly upbeat this morning. We’d have to address her anxiety and depression, but first, she needed some time to heal and feel comfortable again.
I shook off the thoughts of Claire and decided to give Melinda all my focus. She pulled her chair over to the side of her desk. “Just so there’s nothing dividing us,” she quipped before plopping down.
She was a character, that one. I sat on the tiny guest chair, just a few feet from her. Because in all honesty, there wasn’t a whole lot of room for it otherwise.
I smiled as I continued to look around the office, at all the little trinkets and whatnots she had scattered about. There were pictures of her parents, little puzzles, and crazy figurines on every single shelf and table surface.
It was all very quirky — all very Melinda.
The winter blooms she had put in vases all around the room were beautiful. In fact, the flowers and the gorgeous green accent wall almost brought a sort of warmth to me, as if the dreary coldness of the city was a far-off memory.
Unfortunately, the calming green wall had a window in it, and when I looked out, the illusion was destroyed.
It was all right, though, because Melinda had a way of making me feel warm and cared for. She had a way of chasing off unhappiness. It was what she’d always done since I could remember. She had been my dad’s secretary since forever, it felt like.
She probably knew my family better than we knew ourselves. She had seen how much my dad and I had fought over the years. After my parents split up, my mom moved to Arizona. Claire was still really young. Melinda was the one who’d stepped in and become a bit of a mother figure to us both — and it was even better that she could hardly stand Dad. Sure, she cared for him — but she was definitely his biggest challenger. Of course, when my mom first left, I’d secretly hoped something would happen between my dad and Melinda, but looking back, I didn’t think it ever could have worked out, at least not on a romantic level. I wasn’t sure if they had ever tried it or not, but they definitely were not compatible as anything more than friends.
Even though she was his secretary, she still had a lot of spunk and knew exactly how much she could push back and still be respectful.
She had a thicker sort of build, yet I always managed to envy her clothes. For a woman with a specific body type, she sure as hell knew how to rock fashion. We shared that interest, along with several others.
I sipped on my coffee as I continued to look outside. It looked like the world had literally turned gray. I felt like I was watching a scene in monochrome, one of those old black and white movies. There were gray clouds, and a slight gray haze covering the streets. There were even gray and black coats and hats on gray people, shuffling along the gray sidewalk.
I shivered.
It all felt so cold.
I pulled my gaze away from the window and back to the flowers, and then to Melinda. Her bright glow sort of radiated out from her wide smile as she looked at me. Her short cropped blond hair fell almost perfectly as she tucked her crossed ankles back beneath her seat.
“What’s on your mind?” she asked.
“I just really can’t wait to move,” I said. I wasn’t sure if that was entirely true — but the outside world made me anxious for California heat.
“You’re in such a hurry.” She pursed her lips and made a sound just before she lifted her coffee mug to her lips. She was so elegant in her movements. A part of that had to do with the fact that she had been an honest-to-goodness debutante when she was younger. “Much, much younger,” as she had so many times put it before.
She was probably as old as my father, but her face was so soft and delicate that I would have sworn she was twenty years younger. “It’s like you’re ready to pack up and leave me behind to deal with your dad,” she joked.
I couldn’t help but feel a faint sadness creep up. I would definitely miss Melinda.
Every time I was out of school for vacation, or in town to see my dad, we made it a ritual to meet for coffee. Her lips pursed around the rim of the cup, and she made a slight face when she took a sip of the coffee.
I knew that she never really did care for coffee. Which was so ironic, since this was always her idea.
“You know you don’t have to drink that,” I said with a laugh.
“Honey, I’ve been torturing myself for thirty years with the stuff — can’t stop now!”
“Why do you drink it if you hate it?” I scooted my chair closer to her, my body leaning forward.
“Well, if soda could give me the pep in my step to put up with your dad, I would drink that instead.” She laughed as she rested the cup on her lap. “So blame the soda companies for not putting in enough caffeine.”
She was absolutely ridiculous. She always had a Coke on her. It was her one major vice. But every morning, she had a cup of coffee — whether she wanted it or not.
“And even if I don’t like it,” she said, “it still gives me a chance to see you in the morning.”
We chatted for a while about nothing and everything, and I confessed my concerns about Claire as well as my hopes for California. After a fair amount of time had passed, Melinda stood and walked over to me, and I stood to accept her hug.
She slung her arms around my ribs and squeezed me tightly. My own coffee cup was still in my hand — and I almost spilled it on her when she flung herself into my arms. I enjoyed the hugs; I always had. Her arms around me always had made me feel better.
“Let me walk you out,” she said as she pulled back. With one arm over my shoulder, and she led me toward the door of her office, which was only a couple of steps away.
“Trying to get rid of me,” I sighed dramatically. “I see how it is.”
“Well, if I keep you here, your dad is going to think that you’re working for him now,” she said with a laugh.
I rolled my eyes. “God forbid that actually happen,” I groaned. And there was no sarcasm or hint of it in my voice. I was serious. I did not want him to think that. Ever.
That was one fight I was beyond sick of having.
“Bye, Melinda,” I smiled over my shoulder.
Coffee date: successful. I smiled as I stepped out of the office and made my way down the hall toward the set of stairs leading to the main floor. But just as I reached them, my phone chimed loudly from the depths of my purse.
I groaned, immediately dreading having to get into my bag. I reached out and grabbed the dangling accessory and opened it.
My bag really was insanely messy. I needed to clean it — but I knew I wouldn’t. I never did. But because I never cleaned it, I became a master feeler. I could have been on one of those fear factor shows where you were left blindfolded and had to touch things. I knew just about everything by how it felt in my hands.
I grabbed my phone and looked at the lit-up screen — immediately wishing that I hadn’t. I let out a frustrated groan as I jerked the phone closer to my face.
Claire’s school.
It felt like it was always Claire’s school. I wasn’t even sure if anyone else had my phone number.
I loved the fact that they actually cared enough to use texting as a method of contact. I even loved the fact that they cared enough to text or call me when there was a problem. I appreciated it. I really did. The status reports were awesome. It was the type of attention you received when you paid enough for private school tuition. It was more than most colleges did, and both Claire and I received the benefit or detriment of it, depending on how it was viewed.
But still, the texts rarely shared good news. Especially today, when they said that my dear, dear sister had skipped school.
“Are you kidding me?” I shrieked as I read through the text message.
I was embarrassed by her behavior. I’d busted my ass to get her into a school like this one. I continued my descent down the stairs. I heard the sound echo against the stairway’s walls, but I paid no mind. I just kept taking steps downward as I typed a message for the school.
A cold blast of air from outside reached my face, and I gave a low growl of impatience. “I thought heat rose, not fucking cold,” I muttered to myself as I typed. I couldn’t wait to get to California.
I was so preoccupied that I didn’t even stop to wonder why it was cold in the stairway. If I had stopped to think, I might have come to the conclusion that someone had just come through the lobby doors at the bottom of the steps.
My fingers continued to pound away at the touchscreen until I felt my torso bounce against something hard. The air whooshed from my lungs, and I wasn’t sure if it was out of shock or if it was because I’d crashed too hard into my obstacle. But immediately, I felt my feet completely lose the ground.
I was falling. Fast.
I squealed, and my head snapped up. I threw my arms out, trying to grab ahold of anything that I could find.
And then all of a sudden, it was over. My feet were firmly back on the steps, and I was staring into a set of familiar deep brown eyes. I blinked, and my gaze darted toward my hands, and as soon as my eyes set on them, I noticed what I was holding onto.
It was a broad, muscular chest, covered by a pale blue dress shirt, yellow tie, and a navy suit jacket.
“Holy shit,” I breathed out in a gasp, realizing I had almost fallen. Seriously, all I needed was a freaking broken neck, and to cause another one. I shouldn’t have been so stupid, texting while walking down the stairs.
I tucked my phone into my coat pocket before I lifted my head to look at the man’s face.
“It’s you,” I blurted as soon as I took in the rest of his face — in complete focus. I felt my throat clench and my breath catch. He was probably the last person I expected to see.
It was my chisel-jawed, blond-haired, brown-eyed gorgeous Starbucks-addicted stranger. The same man I mysteriously kept bumping into…
Ian.
I still had no clue what his last name was, but he was the same gorgeous man I’d been ludicrously seeing everywhere I turned.
Hell, just remembering that little kernel made me almost wonder if he really was right in front of me this time, or if I was hallucinating again. But when he laughed, I knew that I wasn’t just going nuts — he was actually here.
I couldn’t help but laugh in response. His laugh was nice, and sort of infectious. Something told me, though, that laughter wasn’t something he did a lot of, and I felt a pang of tenderness for him, this man I barely knew.
I looked at him nervously as I stopped laughing.
What were the odds that we’d run into each other — especially on a day that I’d already hoped more than anything that I could have met up with him? I mean, if it hadn’t been for my coffee date with Melinda, I would have gone to Starbucks whether or not I wanted coffee, just for the chance to see Ian again.
Before now, I’d almost been sad that I hadn’t gone. Something about him intrigued me. I wanted to see him. I felt like a part of me needed to see him—needed to get to know him, needed to understand who he was.
All that was left was a sort of awkward silence, and it seemed to cause a tension unlike any I had ever experienced before. I was at a loss for words — for probably the first time in my entire life. Something told me that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way.
He looked down for a moment, and then back at me, only to shift his gaze back down to the marble steps. It was like he was avoiding eye contact like he didn’t want me to see the opening and closing of his mouth as he tried to find something to say to me.
But then, out of almost nowhere, he spoke. “This isn’t the place I’d expect to find a teacher.”
“I was having coffee with a friend.”
“I have a meeting inside.” He was smiling, almost from ear to ear. It was cute, sort of innocent looking and boyish. “Small world,” he said with a laugh.
“It definitely is.” I shivered and bundled my coat closer to me as outside air came in almost full-force.
“Did you leave the door open or something?” I asked, referencing the office building’s front door just at the end of the stairs. It was supposed to be a joke, but my shivering probably made my question sound a little more irritated than I’d intended.
“I didn’t, but there are guys moving things in, so they propped it open.”
He squinted at me for a moment — almost like he was confused — but then, just a second later his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, shit!” he blurted, almost a little too loudly, as the sounded echoed off the walls when he finally understood why I asked the question. “You’re cold! I've been out walking in it and didn't really realize,” he stammered. "I mean to say, I'm basically just numb to it right now.” He laughed. “How about you go and get a cab and warm up?”
I smiled and cupped my hands before bringing them to my lips. I blew heated breath into them. Steam formed in my palms, and it felt nice and warming, soothing, even.
“I would really like to see you, though,” he said quickly, almost as if he was afraid that I was about to leave.
I cocked my head to the side. “What?” was all that I could muster as my body began to shiver. Wasn’t he seeing me right then?
“I mean, I would like to see you again,” he gasped in a laughing breath. “So would you like to have lunch with me on Saturday?”
I nodded. I really, really did.
“I know a great place,” I piped up. “It’s really close to my building.”
We set up our date, and I headed out of the building, wondering at how much the universe seemed to want to set me up with Ian. In a city of millions of people, it was remarkable I’d run into him so many times. If fate wanted to set me up with a hot guy who made me laugh, then I wasn’t going to ignore it.