Don't Kill For Me, page 8
“Are you trying to tell me something, Eileen?” He winked and I felt a ripple of teenage excitement travel up from my toes to my smiling lips. “Because I’m available. And I live pretty close.”
“No. I. Maybe. No. I’m not saying anything at all. Just ignore me.” I grabbed for a muffin, he blocked my way by stretching his arm out. I locked my palm on his bicep and felt a stronger tingling run through my body. I hadn’t felt such attraction since I’d first met Anthony. Images of Mr. Bryant bending me over the counter and ravaging me flashed through my thoughts. “I should go.” I pressed away to flee out the door, but he kept me squarely in position.
“There you are,” Ray said, popping in from around the corner.
“I was just getting a cup of coffee.”
Ray looked at the closeness of my and Mr. Bryant’s bodies. He inferred exactly what was going on. If he’d been a few moments longer in arriving, something even more sensual would’ve been what he’d caught a glimpse of. As it was, I played down the sexual tension in the room.
“Is it hot in here?” I was released by my captor, but stopped before leaving the cafe. I noticed the men had stood still. “Where are my manners. Ray Perkins, this is Richard Bryant. A neighbor.”
“Call me Rich.” He shook Ray’s hand. “Have we met? Your face seems familiar.”
“Yours does, too. Do you have kids that like to bounce?”
“Ray owns the inflatable playground at the mall. It’s how we know each other,” I added in an attempt to explain why he was looking for me.
“Oh, is he. . . ?” Rich lowered his voice. “The one you were talking about. The one that. . .?”
“No.” I stopped him from finishing his thought. “Ray’s here—at my place—’cause I drank too much last night. He gave me a ride home.”
“Enough said.” He patted Ray on the back. “You don’t owe me an explanation. We’re just neighbors.” He gave me a sideways hug, caressing my arm as he did. “Next time you can give me a call. That way Ray here won’t be inconvenienced.”
“It wasn’t any trouble. I’d had a little to drink, too. Two beers. I had a buzz going.” Ray’s attempt to man up was embarrassing.
“Rich, I’ve finished with your copies,” Georgia said, standing out in the hallway and looking in the cafe. “They’re separated on my desk. If you want to come into my office.” She pursed her lips. I knew the look she was giving Rich. It made me a tad jealous.
“Be right there, Hon.” He clicked his tongue and winked at Georgia. She shimmied in her spot. “It was nice talking to you, Eileen. Thanks for the coffee.” He leaned in to press his lips near my ear and exhaled, “And the sugar. Maybe you can share more. Next time.”
“Of course.” His eyes were even more captivating that close. “You know where I live.” Flirting with him was natural. I didn’t even hear the sensuality in my voice change, but it had.
Rich stepped away and Ray came into view. Reality hit. “Constant, huh? Is that really a thing? Or are you just a hopeless romantic?”
“I think I read about it in a book once,” Ray said, leading the way out to the car. “How well do you know Mr. Bryant? Not sure if I trust him. Something feels off about him.” He opened the driver’s door, but I stepped in place to drive.
“Scared of the competition?” I grabbed his ass, what little there was of it. “Get in.” I nodded around the car to the passenger side, then cursed, “Damn, I forgot my lunch upstairs.”
#
Chapter Twenty-one
“Well this is me,” I said to Ray from the roll gate of my shop. The moments ticked by slowly, feeling like the end of a very bad date.
“Right. I’d better go.” He fisted his two hands and pounded them together. “Hey, Cybil. Wait up,” he said, chasing down an octogenarian moving at a snail’s pace.
“Glad that morning’s over.” I bent down, unlocked the gate, and raised it a few inches. “Aww, no customers. That was a short internet fad.”
When Trina arrived at noon, I went out to the mall to buy lunch. The choices in the food court weren’t my favorite. Choking down a burger and fries wasn’t my idea of nourishment. I opted for a salad from the pita place and a flavored tea from Connie’s drink stand.
“Can I have a large blackberry and lemon tea?” I ordered, hoping the small line of two people behind me would keep her on task.
“Only if you tell me if you and Ray are back on again?” Connie said.
“We’re just friends. What makes you think there’s anything more?” Being the loner type, inquisitions were not something I was used to, but neither was girl talk. I was anxious, but leery of spilling to Connie about the heat I’d felt with Rich that morning. She had other gossip on her mind. “Did Ray say something to you?”
“Cybil talked.” Connie started blending my tea. “She said she saw the blossoming of love between you two when she passed by this morning.”
“Love? I don’t think so. Ray and I are not a thing, buuuuut. . .” I strung out the word, feeling all giddy inside. “There is a man that I might be interested in.”
“Shut up! Tell me more.” Connie slapped the drink counter with a towel and leaned on it. “Spill it. I want details.” She waved to her associate to finish with the line and pulled me to the side.
Guess I was talking about it. “He’s a neighbor. He’s hot, works his own hours, has dreamy eyes, a nice car and firm ass.”
“Ooh, this is getting good.” She handed me my tea. “Tell me more. Wait. How are going to break it off with Ray?” she joked.
“I’m not with Ray.”
“He slept at your house.”
“On the sofa.”
“In his underwear.”
“Because he didn’t want to mess with the thermostat. How do you know what he slept in? Never mind. That man has a big mouth.” I turned to leave. I’d said too much. I felt dirty, just telling Connie the little I had about Rich. Like I’d jinxed a budding affair before it’d started.
“You can’t leave. I need to know more.” Connie called after me, attracting the attention of nearby patrons.
“I hate gossip,” I said, thinking I’d clear things up. I had to tell my side of the story. Ray had already told his. “Ray and I are friends. Stop taking about us as if we were more. It’s just not there between us. Finished. Nothing else to say about us.”
“Fine, I’ll drop it. He’s boring.” She took my hand to trap me at her counter. “No more talk about Ray, but now you have to tell me more about mister dreamy eyes and firm ass.”
“It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.” I don’t know why I hadn’t run back to the safety of my shop already. I hated people meddling in my business. Mostly ’cause if they knew mine, I had to know theirs.
As a young girl I’d over-obsessed with personal details. I’d make up untrue stories about people. Fill in the blanks. Then I’d get my stories all jumbled up with the truth. My storytelling habit usually caused a big confusing mess. It was why I kept people at a distance.
Before she passed, I promised mom that I’d open up more. She never wanted me to be alone. She regretted having only one child and keeping me so close. I had to put myself out there, make friends or at least make acquaintances.
“Eileen, you know you want to talk.” Connie baited me to return. I’d gotten free and was stepping away. “Don’t leave. You forgot to pay for your drink.”
“Why do you want to know?” I asked, giving her some money. “Why are women catty and nosy?”
“We’re not. I just like to set people up to fall in love. What’s your type? I bet I have a guy for you.”
“I don’t think I have a type.”
“We all have one. I go for younger men who have a mother complex,” she said with a shrug as if it was normal.
“You talking about types?” Lindsay asked, coming up behind me. “I like tall, dark, and handsome. I mean really dark with chest tattoos. And ooh have you seen the new hottie that works at the phone service store? Damn.”
“He’s your type.” Connie said to Lindsay. “You want an energy boosting tea?” The twenty-year-old nodded, sweeping her long black hair up and tying it in a knot on top of her head.
“Let me guess this time.” Lindsay eyed me from head to toe. “Eileen goes for older, submissive, holds your purse kind of man. Am I right?”
“I know you’re trying to describe Ray. Just stop,” I said.
“Mall romances are so fun.” Lindsay looked around. “Who can we set her up with?”
“What about Bob? Or Alan? Would you go out with them?” Connie asked.
“No. Neither.” The topic wasn’t being dropped. I had to address it or they’d set me up with every wimpy mall walker over fifty. “You’ve got me all wrong. Older men are fine, but they have to be strong. Assertive. I want a man to take control.”
“So, not like anyone here.” Connie seemed to be taking a mental stock of all the men she knew that could possibly fit my type. “Do you go for more of a car salesman type?’
“Hey, where is Bob?” Lindsay asked out of the blue.
“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve seen him in a week,” I said, delighted to turn the conversation away from my love life. “Funny. A guy like him walks the mall every day. One day he’s just not here. Hope he’s okay.”
“It is strange. Everyone knows the mall walkers, but does anyone really know them?” Connie asked. “I mean if Cybil or Alan stopped coming We’d assume they were dead. Then what?”
“Right. Bob’s not here. Where is he? What if he did die?” I posed.
“What if he’s dead in his house, being eaten by his cats?” Lindsay suggested.
“He doesn’t have cats,” I said.
“I didn’t know that. Is he a dog person? Do they eat dead bodies?” Lindsay asked, moving away from the “where is Bob” question to searching cannibalistic dogs on her phone.
“He has no pets.” I covered her phone with my hand, an attempt to stop her ridiculous search. It was annoying how the younger generation had to search everything on their phones. As if the internet knew everything. “Bob’s not dead. Someone would’ve told us.”
“Who? Have either of you met his family?” Connie asked.
“He doesn’t have one. He’s never been married.”
“How do you know so much about Bob, Eileen?”
“I just remember details. Bob’s alive. I can feel it.” The thought of having two people I saw on a regular basis die on me, creeped me the hell out. I’d just lost Anthony. Losing a random mall walker wouldn’t be as bad, but I still didn’t want to believe it could happen. “We’re overreacting. We’ve probably just been missing him walk by. I bet we’ll see him today. Now that we’re looking for him.”
“I don’t know. He usually gets a cold strong coffee on his walks. I think Lindsay’s right. He’s dead.”
“She’s not right,” I insisted. “We’d have known. Someone has his number. I’m sure Ray has a way to contact him. They talk.”
“You’re right. Ray’s a good guy. He has everyone’s number.”
The idea of Bob being dead seemed to be stalled. For the moment.
“So we’re back to Ray,” Connie said. “You two are such a cute couple.”
“That’s it. I’m leaving. I’ll let you know when I see Bob.” My lunch hour was almost up and I hadn’t taken a single bite of food. The good news was, I finally had an out to get away from all the “girl talk” at the juice counter.
They had a point. We didn’t really know the people that crossed our paths every day. I personally didn’t really want to get to know them. Strangers were more interesting. They held an untold narrative. I was more comfortable with those. It was when people got too close that they became too human. The stories of their lives were too real for me.
If Bob was dead, his story was over. I’d have to find a new random mall walker to make up details about. Wouldn’t be hard. There was always Cybil.
#
Chapter Twenty-two
A few feet from the food court, I received a text message from a number that I didn’t recognize. See you tonight.
“Odd. Must be a wrong number.” The text reminded me of the sort that Anthony would send me. They were short and vague. Since he’d passed, only Trina texted me. I’d made sure to avoid giving Ray my phone number. A good decision, especially since he admitted I was his constant.
My stomach was growling, so I swiped, deleting the text and kept walking. I returned moments later to the shop with my uneaten lunch in my hand. “I’ll be at my desk,” I said, shaking the bag. Trina was at the counter, taking an order for a Breakup Bouquet.
She’s breaking up with someone? I thought, surprised at the woman’s appearance. She had striking foreign features. Could’ve had any man wrapped around her little finger. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know her story,” I said to myself.
Sitting down at my desk, I noticed immediately what was different. I slowly put my salad and tea off to the side. “Trina, what’s this?” I stood, holding up a manilla envelope that had been slipped under my laptop. It hadn’t been there when I went to lunch. It was far enough tucked under the laptop that it felt like it’d been shoved in place for security reasons.
It was thick, the kind of envelope that was sealed with a string, not a cheap metal clasp. I inched a finger under the corner of the flap. It hadn’t been glued shut.
Hoping for an immediate answer before opening it, I stared at the back of Trina’s head. She made no movement to turn around. “Did you put this here?” I insisted on a reaction.
Turning the envelope to the front, I discovered it hadn’t been dropped off by the postman. There was no delivery or return address on the outside. It simply had, “Read in Private” handwritten in the front lower right corner. “How private is private?” I flipped it over and twirled the string to open the envelope, while walking up to Trina at the register. “Who left this on my desk?”
“Just a minute.” Trina closed the money drawer and turned to me. We both waited for the striking woman to leave the shop.
“Now talk. Are you in some kind of trouble?” I reached in and slid the contents out enough to see the logo of a medical institution stamped on the top of the first page. “What the hell is this?” I pulled the page out a bit more and read DNA Paternity Test Report in the heading.
“Oh, no, no, no.” I panicked, tossing the envelope out of my hands. It landed on the floor of the shop, leaning sideways against Trina’s ankle. “This isn’t real. Is this a joke? Is this yours?”
“Not mine. Guy said it was for you.”
“What guy?” I leaned back on the counter, trying to stay standing. If what I thought was in there was in there, my whole world was about to change. “A messenger?”
“Could’ve been, he was wearing black.” Trina picked up the envelope and attempted to remove the first page. “Are you pregnant?”
“Or course not. Watch the store. I have to go.” I snatched the packet away, stuffing the page back down. I paced to the front entrance of the store, then remembered my purse and stumbled back to retrieve it from my desk.
“Stop!” Trina, jumped into the aisle. “Tell me what’s going on.” She refused to move out of the way. If I moved left, she moved left. When I stepped to the right, she stepped to the right. “Come on, Eileen. You know what I mean.” She snapped her fingers, singing.
I hated that song. It fueled the panic brewing in my thoughts. “If this envelope was left by the secret admirer, well, he’s gone too far. I’m not pregnant.” I clenched my jaw, holding back a sentence I never hoped to utter. “The DNA report is about my biological father. I never knew his name. I never wanted to.” Angry tears came. Whoever had stuck their nose into my past had gone too far. “It’s not his place to tell me.”
A raging heat stirred my emotions. I was ready to blow. I shut my eyes tight, imagining the crack in the sidewalk in my old neighborhood. The image that came to me in nightmares. It was the spot where I was conceived. The place where my mom was raped. All the disgust of everything I hated about my life fueled from that crack and that man.
His identity was typed on a page in an envelope now in my possession. The one question I never wanted answered was in my hand. I was numb for words.
“I can’t do it. I can’t know the truth. It’s not the truth,” I screamed louder. “You delivering this won’t change me. He isn’t a part of me.” I wasn’t yelling at Trina, I was pleading with the anonymous sender who had gone too far to get my attention. “He’s not me. Not me. You hear me? It’s not me.”
#
Chapter Twenty-three
After screaming in my car for a good half hour, I returned to the shop. I’d left Trina alone too many times lately. There was a time and place for personal problems and that was after work. Besides, I didn’t really want to investigate the contents of the mysterious envelope any further. All afternoon it sat on my desk. While Trina baited me to look inside, I ignored it, and worked on incoming orders of flower arrangements. The rush of dead floral bouquets gave the store a nice little boost in business.
It was as if a haze had come over me. I had no idea the past could strike such a blow. One minute I was dreaming about a new adventure with a new man, the next I was doubled over, sick over the one that’d brought me into the world. When six o’clock came, I still wasn’t ready to face the truth in the envelope.
“Welcome home, Ms. Somers,” the porter at the door said. “You received this and there’s a visitor waiting for you upstairs.”
“Thank you.” I took the package from his hand. It was a medium sized box, most likely the pair of shoes I’d ordered online a few days ago. “Is the visitor male or female?”
“Very lovely creature.” He nodded with a huge grin.
That was a relief. It wasn’t Ray. Judging by the tone in his voice, I had a feeling it was Chelsey who was upstairs. She was my only girlfriend. I’d known her for years. She got the same head-turning reaction everywhere she went. A brunette with pouty lips and long legs, she oozed sex appeal. Capturing a room’s attention came naturally to her. I wasn’t in the mood to see her, but how could I not? She was already up there.
