ANDI

Still feeling disturbingly rattled by my memory of Decker screwing Amanda, I grabbed a glass of champagne off the table. The party had been organized on the roof of Lionel and Casey’s place. Like my studio apartment, they had the space above their dog grooming business decked out in living quarters. Unlike mine, theirs was luxuriously modern. While it was worthy of a jaw-drop and the occasional gasp, I still preferred my older style décor. Lionel and Casey had the roof decked out with outdoor furniture and a small glasshouse full of plants, or as Casey referred to them, Lionel’s replace-a-babies. I glanced across to my own rooftop and wondered what I could do to create my own outdoor oasis. Some furniture, a few potted plants, maybe a veggie garden. Laughter drew my attention back to the party before me. It was packed, and I knew most of the guests did not live or work on the street.

Lionel and Casey had Decker sequestered at the appetizer table, no doubt grilling him for his dark and mysterious background that had them completely intrigued. He hadn’t been willing to tell them what he did for a living either. Belle Ferrara, the owner of the exquisite evening wear store directly across from my book store, was a curvaceous woman with a booming laugh and an equally large personality. Just a glance in her direction made me smile. Her husband, Rod, was a tall, lanky man with an untroubled smile and kind eyes. Belle was quite obviously the social one in the relationship, while Rod seemed comfortable simply standing submissively at her side. Imogen and Vanessa were joint owners of the hairdressing salon. They had both cooed and awed over my hair the moment I stepped over the threshold, onto the roof. Imogen was the more subdued of the two, and Vanessa—the undresser as Casey had whispered in my ear—was clearly the life of the party. She was from England and liked to say bloody and shite a lot. Bruce was the owner of the convenience store at the end of the street. His name caught me by surprise, considering he was Asian and his English was limited.

“Like Bruce Lee,” someone mumbled at my side. I turned to notice Imogen and Vanessa watching me with questions burning behind their inquisitive gaze. “His real name is impossible to pronounce, so we just started calling him Bruce, like Bruce Lee,” Imogen explained.

“Oh,” I said. “That makes sense, I guess.” I knew the girls had questions, so before they could launch into an interrogation, I started talking. “My name is Andrea Jennings, but I hate Andrea, never call me Andrea, it’s Andi. I’m twenty-eight-years-old, single, and an Aries. I have a degree in English, and I have worked as a freelance editor for the last seven years but quit so I could follow my dreams of opening a book store in New York. I love coffee and vintage furniture. My boots are sacred, touch them and you die. And I hate peppermint ice cream.”

Both the girls grinned.

“So, you’re single?” Vanessa asked. Oh boy, in New York a week and I was already being hit on by a woman.

“Ummm, I am, and completely one hundred percent heterosexual. Not that I have a problem with people that aren’t. I mean, if you prefer Miss. Kitty to Mr. Winky, all the more power to you.” I held my hand up for a high five that never came.

“Andi, I just wanted to check if that fine specimen you brought as your date was available or not,” Vanessa explained.

“Oh, my bad,” I murmured. I glanced at Decker who was still being hounded relentlessly by Casey and Lionel.

“So, you won’t mind if I go…” Vanessa tilted her head Decker’s way.

“No, no, not at all.” I plastered on my best smile and hoped it was convincing, when in truth, the fact Vanessa had her eyes set on Decker bothered me a whole bunch.

“Any advice?”

“Sure, he loves country music.” Both the girls glanced at Decker with disbelief. “I know, crazy right? I mean, who likes country? It’s depressing.”

“Awful,” Imogen murmured.

“I don’t know any country. I’m British,” Vanessa sighed.

“Oh, come on, everyone knows Dolly Parton. What about ‘Nine To Five’?” Her eyes lit up. “Decker loves country. If he heard you singing a little, you’d have him wrapped around your little pinky.”

Vanessa gave me a grateful smile and skipped off to introduce herself to Decker. I should have felt bad for misleading her like that, but I didn’t. Casey and Lionel and moved away and Vanessa set her sights on Decker. He gave her that devious smile I remembered so well, while Vanessa flicked her hair about in an attempt to appear casual. I could tell she was anything but. Her body language gave her away, the way she leaned towards him, the way her fingers danced across her cleavage in an attempt to draw his attention to it, which worked like a charm. I shook my head. Men, such simple creatures!

“So, how’s the store coming along?” Imogen asked.

“Really good, actually. I’m ready to open, just need to beat the pavement and put in some miles delivering pamphlets to let people know where I am.” My eyes flickered back to Decker and Vanessa, and I gave myself an internal berating. Get a grip Andi.

“I already have a strong online presence; I’ve been selling books via the web for almost a year now, so I have quite a few local customers already who are just waiting for me to announce that my doors are open.” Decker glanced my way and smiled. Damn it, I was staring again. I gritted my teeth and turned back to Imogen.

“If you need any help delivering pamphlets, let me know. I like to walk anyway. I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you.” I gave Imogen a grateful smile. The daunting task of delivering five hundred pamphlets didn’t seem quite so overwhelming with someone to share the journey with. I glanced at the appetizer table, my eyes drawn to the cheesy bacon bites. And then, by a force outside of my control, I was staring at Decker, AGAIN!

“You know, if something is going on between you and Decker, just let Vanessa know. She’s not the kind to step on another woman’s shoes like that.”

I choked on my drink. “We’re not dating, just friends,” I spluttered. Imogen nodded, but I could tell she didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe me. An arm suddenly wrapped around my waist and took hold of my hand, artfully spinning me around. Casey stood before me in all his spandex glory, a cheeky smile playing on his handsome face.

“Dance with me, Cinderella,” he said, handing my glass to Imogen.

I laughed as Casey dragged me to an impromptu dance floor on the rooftop. Appropriately, ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” played on the iPod docking station. In that moment I was thankful for the dance lessons I took in college. Casey was quite the twinkle toes as he spun and dipped me with expertise. The flimsy skirt of my yellow dress floated up high, and I silently patted my back for choosing the simple white panties rather than the lacy yellow thong I had almost stepped into. After a final dip, the music changed to Frankie Valli’s “Oh What A Night” and I was skillfully swung into Lionel’s waiting arms. I barely noticed Belle and Rod dancing and laughing at our side as I laughed with a lighthearted joy I hadn’t felt since before my dad passed away. Lionel turned us and all thoughts or worries were spun right out of my mind and nothing but a melancholic sense of happiness and belonging settled into my heart—home. It had been a word that had eluded me for most of my life. My home with my father didn’t really feel like home. When he was there physically, he was rarely there mentally, his thoughts wrapped and held hostage to the pages of his books. Bradley’s family took me in often and tried to help me settle into something that should have resembled normal, but it wasn’t normal, it wasn’t my home. It was simply a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in. I had lived on campus while at college, and once I had graduated, I flitted between my dad’s house and Bradley’s until Dad passed away. Then I spent a considerable amount of time drowning in sorrow, surrounded by the memories of an absent father. Now, here in New York, in SoHo, I felt as if I had finally found my place. When the music led into something slower, I found my chance to escape. Decker stood alone, watching me with a small smile.

“What?” I asked, checking to make sure my dress had remained in place following one of the spins.

“Old Andi wouldn’t have done that,” he said, a tone of awe in his voice.

I shrugged. “I’m still that same ol’ Andi, I just grew up.”

Decker’s eyes remained on mine, and the intense emotion behind them combined with the champagne was blurring my reasons for not wanting Decker. When Vanessa called his name and his attention easily left me for her, I remembered. Heartbreak, that’s what Decker represented. I turned my attention back to the small group of people dancing before us. Lionel and Casey were trying and failing miserably to show Bruce how to dance. Belle and Rod were dancing quietly, while gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Imogen looked incredibly uncomfortable as Vanessa tried to seductively dirty dance at her back, her gaze settling on Decker every chance she got as she tried to coax him onto the dance floor. He was staunch with his no, remaining by my side.

“She’s a little peculiar,” he said idly.

“Really, how so?”

“She kept humming Dolly Parton’s ‘Nine To Five’. It was creeping me out.”

“At least she’s got good taste in music,” I said, smiling. Vanessa’s hands ran up her ribs and over her breasts, all the while watching Decker with lustful hunger. “Subtle,” I murmured.

Decker chuckled and nudged me with his arm. “What’s up, Country? You jealous?”

“Hardly, it’s just some women have no shame. I mean, does she really think that looks hot?” I balked as Vanessa ground her hips against Imogen who tried to step away from her randy, horn dog dance.

“It is,” Decker said matter-of-factly.

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe to a womanizer like you, but real men, the ones that aren’t afraid of settling down, they wouldn’t be into that. They prefer confident women who are happy to be understated and low maintenance, because that,” I pointed at Vanessa who was now doing some god-awful Dirty Dancing maneuver, “is just embarrassing.” Decker actually looked a little annoyed at my words. He was still smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So, just because I’m not ready to settle down, I’m not a real man?”

I waved off his question. “Oh, I have no doubt you are all man, Decker, don’t worry your pretty head about that.” I let my eyes do a slow perusal of his body. Yep, all man there. Decker gave me a cocky smile. How easily his wounded manhood was pacified. And I say again, men, such simple creatures.

Suddenly Vanessa was peeling off her spaghetti strap top to reveal a pretty red lace bra underneath. “Wooooahhhh,” I said, my eyes the size of saucers. Decker’s gaze zeroed in on the woman undressing.

“And I give you, Vanessa the Undresser.” Casey waved his hand in an elaborate manner before us. Imogen was trying desperately to get Vanessa to put her top back on, while Belle laughed loudly and hooted with encouragement. Bruce Lee, on the other hand, looked ready to pass out, and Rodney was gentleman enough to turn his gaze away.

Lionel approached us, shaking his head, wrapping his arm around Casey’s waist. “Hairdresser by day, stripper by night. Don’t worry, she only does this when she passes the five glass marker.”

Imogen had managed to coerce drunken Vanessa back into her top while Decker laughed at my side.

“Vanessa the Undresser, aptly named.” He leaned down and whispered into my ear, “For some reason, Country, the whole time I was looking at that beautiful, semi-naked woman, all this not-ready-to-settle-down unmanly man could think about was your cute, white, cotton-tails.”

I automatically slapped him across the chest while he laughed, a low deep rumble that seemed to sink into my head, down through my body and right to my lady parts. I caught Casey’s knowing smile and shot him my laser beam glare, which was pretty weak and pathetic. After all, I was a harmless little duck swimming way out of her depth.

*

“So, what on earth possessed a born and bred Texan to turn in her horse and move to New York?” Decker asked as he lounged comfortably on my sofa. It was only nine, still early yet I had yawned my way out of the party and was now supposed to be climbing into my favorite Sponge Bob jammies and fluffy slippers. Instead, Decker had either missed my go-away cues or was choosing to ignore them. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and reluctantly offered one to him. I didn’t want him getting too cozy; he was sucking up too many of my brain cells and I needed a little space to focus and recoup. Vanessa had tried hard to get him to stay at the party and have a drink with her. It had irked me, yet I had encouraged Decker to stay. If he wanted to hook up, it wasn’t my place to interfere. Much to my relief and dismay, he politely declined Vanessa’s invitation and followed me home. He shook his head at the outstretched beer before him, lacing his hands behind his head, stretching out his long legs. He might not have wanted a drink, but he sure as hell seemed to be settling in for the long haul. I collapsed onto the sofa, as far away from him as I could manage without looking like a little fraidy-cat, and opened the beer I had just offered him.

“For future reference, I’ve never owned a horse.” I shrugged. “I guess I needed a change? I’d had a run of bad luck.”

“Such as? I mean, apart from your father of course,” Decker asked.

My father might have been the most painful of my downward spiral, but my luck had been so darn bad I had considered the possibility I might have killed someone’s cute black kitty cat. I took another long drink, a little liquid bravery before I spilled my bad juju.

“It started with my dad passing away. Then a month later, I did an edit for an author who was also a friend, her manuscript was full of plagiarism and I called her on it. It didn’t go down so well, and, needless to say, we are no longer friends. I crashed my car, my Beetle. I loved my Beetle. I decided to sell my family home, but the kitchen caught on fire the week it went on the market, so I had to pull it off to have some fairly major repairs done. The editing hitch I had with my so called ‘friend’ led to her spreading a few nasty rumors, so business dropped off and I had to pick up a part time job waitressing. The owner of that restaurant had a heart attack and passed away, so I lost my job. It was a slow sloping road to misery that got drastically steeper the day I started dating a guy who turned out to be two sandwiches short of a picnic, if you catch my drift.”

Decker was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure I catch your drift,” he said.

“Oh, you know, just the usual. He started out all sweet and attentive and then our relationship ended up with a restraining order.”

“Explain,” he muttered.

“It was no biggie. He just got a tad possessive and handcuffed me to his kitchen table for a few hours.” I waved it off, but in reality, the entire thing had rattled me to my core. That’s when I decided I needed to know how to protect myself. Learning how to throw a punch and knee a man in the kahunas with Keely The Kickass Tiger was worth every damn penny.

“Handcuffs?” Decker growled, and I waved his outrage off. “He handcuffed you?”

“Only for a few hours; his roommate found me. I called the police and Bradley sorted out the rest.”

“What do you mean Bradley sorted out the rest?” Decker leaned forward, his intense gaze on mine, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Well, creeper didn’t really take the restraining order all that seriously to begin with, so I called Bradley. You know Bradley, he knows…people.” I shrugged. I wasn’t really sure what people Bradley knew, I never questioned it, but one phone call and the boy could have fifty free pizza’s on your doorstep or a debt collector ready to start cutting pinkies off.

“I called Bradley, he made a few calls, and the next time I saw creeper, he looked like he’d kissed a Mack truck going a hundred miles down the highway.” I laughed, I shouldn’t have, but the memory of creeper’s horrified face as he turned in the line at Starbucks and saw me standing behind him was priceless. “Anyway, my luck changed the day I jumped online and found this place. Everything just kinda fell into place from that moment on. Now, I’m as happy as a pig in mud.”

Decker’s glower turned into a smile. “A pig in mud. How very Texan.”

“Well, you know what they say: you can take the girl out of Texas…” We fell into an awkward silence. “So, do you like to read?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I have to read scripts for work sometimes,” Decker confessed.

Scripts? “You’re an actor?” I exclaimed with a shrill scream.

“Sort of.” Decker chuckled nervously. Huh, this little secret of his was starting to intrigue me. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to know about him. For Decker to be so closed lipped about something as basic as his job, it had me completely and utterly enthralled.

“I’m good with mysteries,” I murmured. “After all, my father wrote some of the best. I’ll figure you out.” Decker abruptly stood and stretched, his shirt riding up high enough to give me a glimpse of the tantalizing V that forced my gaze down to the low riding jeans that sat on his hips. I quickly averted my gaze before I was caught eyeing the candy.

“I’m beat. I think I’ll get going, Country.”

Strangely, I was disappointed. Even though I had left Casey and Lionel’s desperate for my own company and a good book, I enjoyed having Decker around. Maybe it was our childhood connection or simply the fact that I was all alone in a big city, but his presence calmed me. I grabbed the spare key for the shop door. Decker stood at the top of the stairs as I reached out and handed it to him.

“I don’t know anyone else here, and I would feel better if I knew someone was able to get inside the shop if I needed help or anything.”

Decker reached for the key as if he was gearing up to pet a rattlesnake. “You sure?” he asked.

“Of course. Just keep in mind I know how to throw a punch, so don’t start getting any creepy ideas about letting yourself in to watch me sleep.” That seemed to break the awkwardness that had settled over us.

“No creepy sleep watching. So it’s cool if I watch you take a shower?” he said with a cheeky grin.

I thumped him in the chest, and it hurt my hand. “Ow, damn you’re a perv. Are you made of freakin’ concrete or something?”

Decker took my hand and gently rubbed my fingers. His touch drew my dumbfounded gaze to his, and I melted into liquid as his warm hand engulfed mine.

“That will teach you for getting violent with a machine like me.” As if only now realizing he had my hand in his, he dropped it faster than small town gossip and rubbed his hand on his jeans, as if trying to erase my touch. Well, way to make a gal feel special. “Umm, okay,” he stammered. “You have my number; call me if you need anything, even if you get nervous up here by yourself. I’m only twenty minutes away.”

I nodded, still thrown off kilter by his touch and consequent repulsion to it. “

I’ll lock up,” he said, dangling the key in the air. I watched Decker descend the stairs. “Andi?” He turned back to face me, his eyes flitting from the key in his hand back to me. “I’ve never had keys to a girl’s apartment before. It’s kinda cool, and you can trust me, I won’t disrespect your privacy or anything.” I simply nodded as he left.

When I heard the lock on the shop door engage, I slumped back against the wall. Damn it, what the hell was I thinking? Obviously it was my lady parts making my decisions for me right now. I had to pull my chastity belt back on and lock that thing up tight. There was no way in hell I was going to join the bevy of Decker tramps. I was better than that, I deserved better than that. Yeah, well, tell my throbbing lady parts that.