Chapter 15

Chanel

I sat on my bed and took the nail file out of my overnight bag. It’d already been several nights and I didn’t have enough of what I needed to stay here in a relative state of comfort. The confrontation with my mother had cut short any hopes of packing at the house, and now, Ryan would probably meet up with Henrietta Scott and have a similar encounter.

It embarrassed me to the core. It didn’t help that I couldn’t get him out of my thoughts. Today’s session didn’t help me keep things strictly physical for the state of my sanity.

If anything, I wanted more of him. I needed to know him.

“Ugh,” I muttered. I pushed off from the bed and walked to the door, then nudged it shut. I had to talk to somebody about all of this, and I hadn’t caught up with Paula since I’d come to the base. She’d probably chew me out for it.

A risk I’d take for a chance to talk about everything that was happening.

I fetched my cell from the boring-as-hell steel desk in the corner, then swiped to unlock and scrolled through to Paula’s number. I hit dial, then pressed the phone to my ear.

I walked to my window and looked out on the quiet night. Distant clouds on the horizon, moonlight parting the dark, and stars peeking down at the world.

“About fucking time,” Paula answered.

“And hello to you too,” I said.

“Oh, no, no, no you don’t, bish. You left me hanging for like, days?”

“I texted you,” I said. Though, that wouldn’t be any excuse in her book.

“You texted me. That’s like giving your mom a fat slap instead of flowers on mother’s day,” Paula said. “Okay, okay, bad example. I’m not saying your mother deserves a fat slap but -”

“Anyone ever tell you that you should be a comedian?”

“Only in sarcasm,” she said, in a mock monotone. I could tell from the timbre of her voice that she was psyched to hear from me, and the same excitement bubbled just below my diaphragm.

Paula was the one girl I could trust. The one person who’d always be there for me and show me the understanding that my mother couldn’t.

“I miss you,” I said. “Like for real, though.” Millennial slang was our choice of communication most of the time.

“Baby girl, I miss you too. Like for real, though.”

“What’s happening in Meek Springs?” I asked. “No, wait, first let me ask you this, did you sleep with that other soldier guy? Jack?”

“Jack Stick Up His Butt Whitmore?” Paula asked. “No. I didn’t. I thought he was super cute when we first started talking. Granted, that might’ve been the haze in the bar, but yeah, turns out not so much.”

“Why? What happened?”

“He grabbed my ass. Like full on grabbed it,” she said.

“That sounds like a Thursday night for you.”

“No, honey, you’re mistaken. I don’t mean he grabbed my butt and gave it a squeeze. He literally reached into my jeans, under my panties, and grabbed my bare cheek. Gave me the fucking chills. I’ll tell ya, that’s a good way to lose a hand,” she said.

My suspicions about the creeper were instantly confirmed. “What happened then?”

“I slapped him.” Her grin came down the line. I could picture it. “Naturally, he didn’t feel much like grabassery after that. There was a minute there where I swear he wanted to slap me back.”

“What?!”

“For real. His eyes changed. Like, they went darker, I swear to God.”

“Were you sneaking booze on the side again?” I asked.

“Whatevs.”

I sighed. “No, I can actually believe you about this. I’m on the base, now, and I’ve got my own office. He came in the other day to lecture me about Ryan and how he’s not ready for anything emotional.” It still ate at me that he did that, and shared private information about his friend. But he was probably right about Ryan’s capability for commitment.

“No way.”

“Way,” I said. Okay, that wasn’t so much millennial talk as it was 90s talk. “Anyway, it kind of sucked to hear it.”

“Speaking of the hunky soldier man,” Paula said, “what’s happening there?”

“Not much,” I said, and choked on the lie.

“Oh come on, I know you better than that. You had a one night stand, which is so not you. You can’t tell me you’ve been able to resist his charms this long.”

“I could tell you that, but it wouldn’t be convincing.” I took a deep breath, then filled her in on the details, the secret trysts on base, my deep desire for him and his apparent one for me.

“That’s amazing,” Paula said.

“Uh-huh.” I focused on the scene outside. Nothing moved, and the lights on base ruined the peaceful appearance of the mountain in silhouette. There wasn’t much beauty in concrete, gas, rubber, and steel.

“What is it? What’s bothering you?”

“The stuff Whitmore told me, I guess. I don’t want to get emotionally involved with someone who’s this unavailable. I was an army brat, Paula. I moved around loads when I was a kid, and then I eventually lost my father and got stuck in this God forsaken town. I know what this life is about.”

“And you don’t want that for you?”

“No. I don’t know. I didn’t think so until this happened, but it’s a moot point now. He’s not that type of man,” I said.

“And that disappoints you,” she replied.

“Yes. God dammit, I shouldn’t feel ashamed to admit that, but I do.”

“You don’t need to be ashamed. I mean, he’s gorgeous, and he seemed eligible, if a bit rude, and you slept with him. You’re not used to just sleeping with a guy and there being no follow up.”

She had a point. “Maybe I’m out of my depth here.”

“Just don’t overthink it,” Paula said. “You’re there to do a job and if you have some fun along the way, what’s the harm?”

“I don’t want to get hurt.”

A strange scratching sound drew my attention and I turned from the window and scanned my room, frowning. Nothing. That was weird.

“You can’t protect yourself forever,” Paula said, “but hey, it sounds to me like you’re on the right track. You’re keeping your distance and enjoying the physical aspects of it, ya know?”

“I guess.” That scratching and then a strange click. Was that coming from the door? I narrowed my eyes at it, but nothing moved or changed.

“Are you kidding? Think of this as your break from reality. You get to do what you love while you’re doing someone else,” Paula said, and giggled.

“Hilarious.”

“And when you come back, you’ll have your options waiting for you.”

“Wait, what? What options?” Did Paula know something I didn’t?

“You know what I mean.”

“I honestly don’t. Are you trying to tell me there’s a way out of Meek Springs I don’t know about? A secret job offer on the table?”

“What? No,” she said, and laughed. “You’re so weirdly focused on your goals.”

“Yeah, that is weird. Much better to be focused on dick, right?”

She guffawed. “Aw, come on, you know what I mean. Anyways, that wasn’t what I was talking about. So, apparently, you’ve got a not-so-secret admirer.”

“Who?” It couldn’t be Ryan, which naturally sucked. And I couldn’t work up excitement at the prospect of anyone else.

“Duh, the most eligible bachelor in Meek Springs! Timothy.”

“Timothy? Timothy likes me? I mean, he asked me out the other day but I didn’t take it seriously. I thought it was just one of his moves, you know. Like he pulls on all the girls?” I shook my head. Timothy was what other women considered hunky, but he did nothing for me.

“All the girls? Sheesh, how many girls do you think he’s been with?”

“Uh? I know for a fact Rebecca dated him for like a week. And then Cheryl. And then Lillian,” I said. “Gosh, who hasn’t been with him? He just wants me as another notch on his belt.”

“I don’t think so, hon. He really likes you. Word on the street is he’s determined to make you his girlfriend,” she said.

I huffed out a breath. That was exactly what I didn’t need. If my mom heard about it, she’d either ban me from leaving the house or she’d encourage it to get me away from the base. “Well, do me a favor and put the word out on the street that I am not interested in Timothy. He actually approached me while I was in the truck with Ryan the other day. Mondo embarrassing.”

“Oh my God, you’re kidding,” she said.

“Not even a little bit. And it sucked. So yeah, I’m not into Timothy and I never will be.”

Paula smacked her lips and hummed – her telltale sign of contemplation.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just bet that the soldier dude was super jealous when that happened. I’d bet anything actually.”

“No, he wasn’t jealous.” He couldn’t have cared less. He drove off, most likely because Timothy overstepped his bounds and touched the car. I didn’t want to believe Ryan had any feelings for me, because if I let myself in on that possibility, I’d get my hopes up and only come crashing down.

“All right, so I’ll tell Timothy to back the fuck off because you don’t need no man,” Paula said. “Or I could tell him you’ve already got one.”

“Don’t start with me, woman.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, if it weren’t for me you’d never have blown the cobwebs off your pussy.”

“You’re lucky I can’t slap you through the phone. Listen, I’ve got to go. I have to get some sleep before tomorrow. I have a full day of work –”

“And dirty, hot sex.”

“Work! Ahead of me.” I blushed despite my protest. I’d have loved another session with Ryan. He unlocked the passionate side of me, for sure.

“All right, baby doll. Sleep tight. Don’t let the soldiers bite. Unless it’s on your –”

“Byeee!” I hung up before she could finish the sentence. The woman was incorrigible. I wasn’t a prude, but Paula had always been a free soul. Free didn’t equal slutty. She was just uninhibited.

I envied her sometimes. She made snap decisions, where I spent ages deliberating over what to do or going back on what I’d decided. The only thing I could be decisive about was design. Perhaps, that was why I loved what I did so much.

I had a natural feel for it, whereas romance was beyond me.

I walked to my bed and sat down, then flopped back and stared at the ceiling with it’s boring bulb. Blegh, bland.

“Dad, I wish I could talk to you about everything. I wish I could ask you what you would do in this situation. Would you have left your mom’s house if she did this to you? Would you have run off to the big city?” I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked out the tears that pricked at their corners. “I just want a sign that everything is going to be okay.”

I waited and waited, the silence closing in around me, coating me in a layer of despair. Nothing came. No happy sign from my dad.

I got up and went to the desk instead, then sat down and opened one of the portfolios. I blinked and sucked in a breath.

A picture of my dad was stuck to the page, trapped between two swatches of fabric. I’d likely left it there after using it as a bookmark – a nice way to keep my father with me at all times.

“Thank you,” I said, and bowed my head. I let the tears fall.