Safe with Me, page 19
“Lilac,” I said, my lips feeling a little numb.
“Okay.” He nodded. “Leave this with me, all right?”
I trusted my big brother; I really did. But I hated the thought of him having these types of under-the-table deals with people in high places. It didn’t seem right—it was just too shady. That was probably one of the reasons I wasn’t cut out to be a businessperson.
“I’m trying to help you, Fay. Could you smile at least?”
I tried, but all I could manage was a grimace that bared my teeth.
“Oh gods, that’s terrifying.” He backed away from me and I thwacked him.
He grabbed my arm before I could pull away and I saw the evil glint in his eyes a second before he tumbled me straight back into the pool.
When I resurfaced, spitting out a mouthful of water, Havi was standing behind my brother, a tray of meat in her hand.
“It’s fun to dunk her, isn’t it?” she said to Skinny.
He laughed in agreement, then looked back to wink at me.
Chapter Thirteen
Havi
“Okay, so be honest with me—is this too much?”
Austy held out a handmade sign that said, “Welcome Home, Reverie!”
The problem wasn’t the words; it was the flashy rose gold material it was made out of. I tried not to squint as the light hit it, but it was nearly blinding.
“Do you like it?” Austy pushed. “Fia got all the decorations handmade by a designer.”
Yes, but why?
It was a question I badly wanted to ask, but it would probably offend Austy, who already seemed on edge. She was frantically running around the apartment, trying to get everything in order before everyone arrived for the baby’s welcoming party. Having known her for a little over six weeks, I could confirm that this was normal Austy behavior on steroids.
She’d enlisted me into helping her, seeing as Fay wasn’t home yet like she’d said she’d be. So far, I’d stuck the appetizers in the oven, arranged the food table with the little welcome party gift boxes Fia had created—also in rose gold—and helped set up the sanitizing arch near the front door. The new parents were being extra careful to avoid any germs near their baby.
Fia was currently sequestered with the newborn in the nursery, which left Austy to her own panicked devices.
“Austy,” I said, placing a hand on her narrow shoulders. “Can you take a breath for me?”
“Can’t, I gotta—”
“Please?”
She paused for a moment, and I saw the pure panic in her gaze.
“In and out. With me.”
She nodded frantically and mimicked my breathing. On her third breath, her shoulders fell, losing their tension. I continued for a couple more breaths until she seemed a little more stable.
She blinked at me, those cornflower blue eyes widening as though finally noticing I was there. “Hey, you look really nice—can’t believe I didn’t notice before.”
“Thanks, man.” I smiled, letting her shoulder go.
The past month and a half had been full of little blessings. Since that day at the pool, things with Fay had settled into an easy dance. I cooked for her each day after I’d finished working on the guest room, and if I didn’t see her before I returned to the shelter, the dishes would be empty the next morning with a little love note—each day a different message.
The hospital gave her one day off every week, and she made sure to spend it with me, along with any other free time she could scrounge up between eight in the morning and ten at night. She’d surprised me a couple times by coming home in the afternoon for “lunch”—but all that meant was us cuddling and touching and basking in one another’s presence before she had to leave again.
A few days before I was done putting together the furniture for the guest room, I’d received a call from a stranger at the center. Apparently, they’d been trying to reach me for a while, but I hadn’t been available. Intrigued, I’d attended the call on the communal vid screen, only to learn that Aster, the antiques dealer I’d met a few weeks back, had recommended me for a job as a security detail at her apartment building. The manager, a stocky woman named Mal, had offered me a temporary position as her assistant, mainly to fill in over the weekends when she wanted some time away. She was a boisterous gem of a person who was happy to work around the terms of my probation.
I’d said yes, of course. It was only part-time, until Mal could convince the corporation that owned the building that she needed the help full-time. If they approved, I was looking at a nice little studio in that very building, along with health benefits and a decent wage. It was ideal until I could find something to do with my actual skill set.
With the wages from that job, I’d finally had the opportunity to buy myself a few new things. The thrift store I walked past each day near the shelter always had a sign up saying “five items for five credits” so I’d decided to have a look. They only had a few things in my size, one of which was a silky-looking forest green top that matched my eyes. It was a little tight in the arms, but the rest of it flowed down my body quite well. Plus, it looked pretty good with the jeans I’d also thrifted from the store, along with a few other essentials.
Last night, Win had lent me some of his new hair products—which he’d patiently shown me how to apply—and after a whole night of sleeping with a T-shirt over my head, my naturally coarse curls actually looked pretty silky. Instead of bundling them up and out of the way, I wore them down my back, contrasting nicely with the forest green shirt and jeans.
“Okay, so back to the sign.” Austy interrupted my musings, holding up the monstrosity again. “Where should it go?”
“I’ll hang it up,” I volunteered, gently plucking the sign from her hands. “It’ll look good over the food table.”
“Great! Okay, so if you do that, I think I’ll have time to hop in the mister before people start arriving.”
“Go on, then. I’ll keep an eye on the food, too.”
“Thank you!”
The front door buzzed as soon as she disappeared down the corridor. I draped the sign over one arm and attended the door with the other.
Two older people stood in the shared entrance area, dressed head to toe in white.
“See, honey? I told you they wouldn’t be ready. The decorator’s still here,” the statuesque lady said, slipping her slim, manicured hand into her husband’s arm.
Before I could correct her, her husband said, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind us being early, sweetheart. I’m eager to see my new grandbaby.”
It was becoming increasingly apparent that I was looking at Fay’s parents. She didn’t look very much like them at all. Sure, she had her mother’s eyes, but the rest of their features didn’t quite match.
“Could you step aside, please?” Mrs. De Silva asked, and I moved out of their way. The heels of both their shoes clattered loudly against the tile. “Just leave the door open—it’s only us on this floor anyway.”
She looked around the room at the little accented deco Austy had put up earlier. “Fia always has good taste with decor, even if she only chooses pink.”
Her husband rumbled something I couldn’t quite catch.
“Um, would you like a drink?” I asked, not knowing what else to say.
“Gin and tonic with extra lemon for both of us please, dear, thank you.”
“Of course. I’ll just put the sign up and I’ll get those drinks for you.”
After that, it felt like I was dismissed.
As the pair sat on the couch, I quickly pinned the sign in place as high as I could manage then retreated to the kitchen. So, Fay’s parents thought I was the decorator—it was a natural assumption, I suppose. I doubted Fay had said anything to them about dating me, and I’d answered the door with a sign in my hand. Now, how would I go about correcting them? Would Fay mind if I introduced myself to her parents without asking her first?
I honestly didn’t know the answer to that question, but when in doubt, don’t do it. Fay was due home any minute, and I didn’t want to screw anything up before that.
I keyed the drinks into the AI chef just as the oven dinged, and I wasted no time placing the little canapés into raised serving platters for the food table.
Austy and Fia had over-ordered for sure. They were expecting about twenty guests or so, but there was enough food for forty people easily.
The canapés alone filled four trays, and there was more food waiting to be reheated.
“We’re here!”
I heard an unfamiliar voice yell out as I walked back into the living room with the drinks in my hands.
“Oh!” I set the drinks down on the coffee table, remembering something. “Could everyone please use the sanitizing arch? It’s to protect the baby.”
“Of course!” A small woman with a head full of dark curls set a picnic basket on the floor and stepped through the arch, letting the mist work its way over her body. A queue formed behind her, the end of which I couldn’t see.
“You must be Havi,” the woman said, extending her hand. “I’m Twyla, a friend of Austy’s.”
Her small hand almost disappeared in mine.
“I’m sorry, did Fay tell you about me?” I asked, curious as to how she’d known who I was.
“Oh no, Austy mentioned that you were helping Fay remodel her kitchen?”
“Oh, yes.” God, that felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been a little over a month. “Austy has great taste and was a big help.”
“Yes, she built her own house—did she mention that? She’s actually quite handy to have around.”
Before I could say how impressed I was, her partner came up behind her, carrying the large picnic basket Twyla had abandoned. It amused me a little that they were wearing clothes made out of the exact same silver-gray material. While Twyla wore a knee-length dress that puffed out like a cupcake, her partner had opted for a shirt and bow tie. It was cute.
“This is my mate, Cedra,” Twyla introduced us. “Baby, this is Havi.”
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you. Heard a lot about you.”
“A lot?” I asked, taking her hand.
Twyla threw her mate a meaningful look and Cedra backpedaled. “Uh, you know, Austy said you were hanging out with Fay.”
There were more people coming through the arch.
“We should clear the entryway,” I cautioned, moving them into the living room. “I can take your basket, if you like?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
“You guys are early!” I heard Austy yell out a moment before she turned the corner, all fresh and squeaky clean from the shower. She stepped right into Twyla’s open arms.
“I’m cutting.” A tall figure approached from behind and enveloped both of them in a big bear hug.
Cedra met my gaze and moved over to the side to give them more room. There was a bunch of food in the basket, and I began laying it out on the table.
“They’re really close, huh?” I asked and she nodded.
“You have no idea. When Austy started commuting to Royal One over the weekends, Twyla was so sad. They used to spend every other day together.”
I glanced over the people gathered there, noting the familiar faces.
“I think I’ve met everyone on video at one point or another,” I said. “Except you and Twyla.”
“And what about you?” Cedra asked, flipping her long braid over her shoulder. “Give me the rundown.”
“All right,” I said, scratching my scalp. “I’m an A3 pilot from Earth. I grew up in Georgia, then moved to Florida to join the army when I was seventeen. I, uh, like most types of sports and enjoy cooking? I don’t quite know what to say.”
“Florida? That’s in the United States, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” I confirmed, then paused. “It’s so weird to think Earth is a two-week journey away.”
“Well, my great-grandfather was originally from New Zealand—do you know it? He was a farmer.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of it but it’s half a world away, so I’ve never been.”
“All right, where’s my grandbaby?” a gruff voice cut into our conversation and Austy’s dad came forward, pulling along a giant stuffed bear.
“Pa!” Austy pulled away from the hug and eyed the gift. “Where are we going to put this?!”
“It’s going nowhere until I take a picture of Reverie lying in between these arms.” He wobbled the large arms of the bear and Austy rolled her eyes.
“Fine, fine. Everyone, just take a seat and have some food. I’ll go check on Fia and the baby.”
That was my cue to bring out the warm platters.
I left Cedra’s side and brought the food to the table, arranging everything as neatly as I could.
A tall figure detached itself from the crowd, moving close to me. We stood eye-to-eye, which was a rarity.
“Do you need help with anything?” she asked with a welcoming smile.
“Ana, right?” I asked. “It’s good to see you in person. If you really want to help, there’s a pitcher of Watermelon Surprise in the kitchen. It just needs to be poured out.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, walking toward the striking red pitcher. “What’s the surprise?”
“Vodka, I believe.”
“Ah, so definitely a good surprise.” She chuckled, pouring out the drinks into rose gold tin cups.
I hastened to unwrap the covering from the food Twyla had brought.
“So, how are you settling in?” Ana asked from the kitchen. “Fay told us how you landed here.”
I peeked around the corner as I folded the reusable food covers. “It’s been pretty great, actually. Fay’s been wonderful to me. I even managed to get a temporary job, so I don’t feel so aimless here.”
“You were a pilot, right?” Ana asked, sneaking a sip from one of the cups. She smacked her lips, savoring it.
“Yeah, A3 pilot.”
“Hmm. Not sure about that rank; we have a different system here for the Peacekeeping Corps.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes, I was a commander.”
I could feel my spine straightening reflexively as she mentioned her rank, several steps above me.
“Easy, easy,” she chuckled. “I retired over a decade ago. But good to know I still got it.”
“You have an air about you,” I agreed.
“Some things never leave you, I suppose. The military is a lifestyle.”
I felt a reluctant smile tug at my lips. “Do you think we’ll ever go back to waking up at a reasonable hour?”
She shook her head. “It’s been over ten years and I still automatically wake up before dawn.”
“Damn it.”
We shared a chuckle.
“Are you looking for a job?” She hoisted the tray full of rose gold cups. “I know you said you have a temporary gig, but there are people who have transferred from military bases on Earth to our Peacekeeping Corps. They have a training program for that.”
I paused in the middle of making sure the tablescape looked perfect. I already knew Fia was a stickler for aesthetics.
“Well, yeah. I don’t really know what I’d do if I wasn’t a pilot. But I have a case pending with the patrol so I need to let that play out before I make any commitments.”
“That’s smart,” she said. “You don’t want that haunting you while you’re in training.”
“Exactly. Right now I’m working over at Aster’s building, doing repairs and such.”
“An honest day’s work,” she commented with a smile, and I felt her approval wash over me in an oddly comforting wave. “Here. You have the first glass. Looks like you’ve earned it.”
I thanked her and picked up a cup, watching the crowd mingle in the large space. There were smiles thrown over at me from time to time, and invitations to join in conversation, but I was mostly content sipping on my drink and serving people who walked over for food.
While I kept busy making sure everyone was taken care of, my mind was busy wondering, Where’s Fay?
Chapter Fourteen
Fay
Shit! I was supposed to clock off by noon, but a hovercraft collision kept me busy in urgent care and before I knew it, it was almost four. Fia was going to be mad. She’d enlisted me to help Austy with the decorations for Reverie’s welcome party and I’d assured her I’d be there.
Damnit.
I hoped Havi had gotten my brief message. All I’d managed to send her was a short text saying: SOS. Help Austy. I wondered if she’d made it on time; I didn’t have the opportunity to call her to check.
Rhea and I were on shift together today, and although things were a little awkward between us, the tension had seeped away over the past month, and we were at least back on talking terms.
I was relieved—it was so hard not to have my friend to take breaks with or share a crappy cup of canteen coffee. And since I had a favor to ask her today, I needed her in the most agreeable mood possible.
I caught her waiting for the elevator up to our office, a crinkly packet of biscuits in her hands.
“Hi, Rhea,” I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets.
“Hi,” she returned, glancing down at her hands.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I ventured slowly.
In a moment of truce, I extracted a sandwich from my scrubs and handed it to her. Havi made a habit of packing a few of these for me every day even though I told her I could only eat one or two per shift. Anything more and I’d be heavy on my feet.
“Oh yeah?” She pocketed the biscuits and accepted my offering, easing the tightness in my chest.
The elevator doors swooshed open, and we stepped inside. Rhea instructed the lift with her medic’s code.
