Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Tanner stopped by Sylvie’s desk. “Fish tacos after work today?”
She glanced around for her assistant. “Yeah, but don’t let Priyanka hear that. She’ll invite herself.”
“You don’t like her?”
“I do like her. But she really likes you. I don’t want to give her any new excuses to be hanging around you.”
Tanner chuckled. “You sure about that? Don’t you think I’m a little old for her?
Tanner had well over a decade on Priyanka. “I completely agree. But she clearly doesn’t see it that way.”
Tanner just shrugged, shaking his head.
Sylvie felt nothing for him but friendship, but even she could attest that Tanner had sex appeal. He was one of the few men in their office who didn’t have an inflated ego to go with his massive body.
“I’m just warning you,” Sylvie said, “because I’m afraid she’s going to try to feel you up in the hallway one of these days.”
“Then you’d better protect me. Good thing you’ve been working out. You’ve got some serious guns going on.”
Sylvie flexed her biceps. She was wearing a tight black T-shirt today, which showed off both her muscles and her newest ink—a heron with its wings outstretched.
She’d been working out in their gym lately, as well as practicing her shooting at the range. Sylvie made her living behind a desk, but her visit to Crane’s house had reminded her that she still worked for a security company. Her job had inherent dangers, and she wanted to be ready for them.
It had been three weeks since she’d seen Crane.
She hadn’t heard anything further from the man.
Nor had Max mentioned him. She figured that Crane hadn’t complained about her bad attitude, probably because he’d put her sufficiently in her place.
And Priyanka hadn’t spread any rumors about their confrontation in the entryway, which had definitely increased Sylvie’s affection for her new assistant.
All in all, the whole incident was behind her.
So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? Replaying that scene inside his house, only with a different ending than him smirking at her and walking away?
The workouts had helped distract her, but clearly, it wasn’t enough. She needed a new guy to take her mind off things. But every time she swiped through a dating app, her mind wandered off to Dominic Crane again.
She had been pretty rude to him. Would he have behaved differently if she’d been kinder? Even mobsters had feelings, presumably.
Not like it matters, she reminded herself. Because you aren’t going to see him again.
An hour later, she and Tanner were walking along the beachside path to their favorite fish taco stand.
“What’s new with you, besides your fitness regimen and your fresh ink?” the bodyguard asked. “Seeing anyone these days?”
“Um, what?”
He laughed. “That wasn’t a proposition. I’m asking as your friend. You seem…different.”
“Why would me seeing someone make me different?” She’d never change herself for a man.
“Not different in a bad way. You just seem a little dreamy. Sometimes you’re looking off into space and smiling, and I’m just curious what you’re thinking about.”
Tanner might not be able to tell when a girl was crushing on him, but otherwise he was pretty damn observant. “I guess I’ve been thinking of someone. I’m surprised I’m smiling about him though. Because there’s definitely no potential.”
“Do I know this guy?”
She was so not going there. “Not really. It doesn’t even matter. He’s not remotely interested in me.”
“Our Sylvie? You kidding? What’s this guy’s problem?”
“It’s okay, Tanner. You don’t have to make me feel better. I’m a big girl. He wouldn’t be good for me anyway.”
Tanner stuck his hands in his shorts pockets. Max had a pretty easy-going philosophy when it came to their dress code, but Tanner was always pushing it. His flip-flops slapped against his feet.
“Then it’s better he stays away. You shouldn’t waste your time. There must be plenty of guys knocking on your door. Whether you’ll answer them is another question.”
That was fair. She was picky. Sylvie hadn’t had a boyfriend for at least a year. The last one had been a professor at a state school in Los Angeles. Theology, of all things. They’d had engaging conversations, even though their chemistry had only been so-so.
But Sylvie rarely had experienced intense passion in real life, as opposed to just in her fantasies.
She’d been on countless dates and had plenty of boyfriends in the years since she’d moved to Southern California.
She didn’t do one-night stands, but she’d slept with all kinds of men.
Nice guys, some not-so-nice ones. But no matter how attracted she felt to them, or how much desire she experienced beforehand, the actual sex always turned out disappointing.
She’d accepted the fact that it was her issue and not theirs.
She just wasn’t cut out for experiencing that kind of pleasure.
Specifically? She’d never had an orgasm. Not once. With anyone.
She only knew she was missing out because of the experiences other women described. Sylvie was an intellectual creature, not a physical one. That was nothing to be ashamed of. Or so a multitude of doctors and therapists had told her.
Of course, in Dominic Crane’s entryway, she’d wondered if maybe he could get her to places she’d never been before… But it was probably better she hadn’t tested that theory. Crane could stay in her fantasy world, which was better for all of them in more ways than one.
“What about you?” Sylvie asked. “Why haven’t any ladies managed to tie you down yet?” She poked his side with her elbow.
“Because I’m wild and untamable.” He shook out his mane of curly hair to emphasize the point. “But if you and I both stay single forever, you could be my wingwoman in the nursing home. You could handle my schedule of horny widows who want to come take a ride.”
She cracked up at that horrifying yet hilarious image. “And what would I get out of this?”
“Job satisfaction? I could offer prescription discounts and a pension plan. Gotta keep that juice flowing, even in retirement.”
“Now you’re speaking my language. Investment portfolios get me all riled up. Talk dirty about 401(k)s, please.”
This was all she needed—good friends, a challenging job, a boss she respected. Her cousin Ethan was her roommate and best friend, another refugee from their former life.
Sylvie didn’t lack for many things. She was determined to be grateful for all she had, instead of dwelling on what might be missing.
She was banging around in the kitchen when Ethan came downstairs. “What’s for dinner, honey?”
“Why, baked ham and boiled peas, sweetheart,” she said in a falsetto.
Sylvie and her cousin had bought this house together a year ago. He lived in the upstairs, while she took the lower part. Ethan had his own kitchen up there, but he loved mooching off her when it came around to dinnertime. And of course, she didn’t mind.
Actually, she was making lentil soup and homemade sourdough. Ethan bent over the pot on the stovetop and inhaled. “That smells amazing. I’ll set the table.”
Ethan had been Sylvie’s inspiration for moving to Southern California in the first place.
Sylvie’s dad was from Louisiana originally, but he’d put down roots in a small town in the Texas Hill Country where cows outnumbered people.
There were so many things that Sylvie loved about growing up there.
The wide-open skies, the beige color of the local stone used to construct their grandparents’ home, line dancing on Friday nights.
But Sylvie had always felt like an outsider there. Like a foreign plant someone had stuck into the soil but didn’t know how to care for.
It was her nature to question things, and her parents never appreciated her attitude, nor had her Sunday school teachers. She used to doodle tattoo ideas on her textbooks and got in trouble for drawing on everything—her arms, her hymnals, even her clothes—with sharpie marker.
In high school, Sylvie decided what books to read based on whatever the local parent community wanted to ban.
As soon as she had access to an internet connection, she got into coding and joined every message thread on hacking she could find.
She’d instantly felt drawn to the hacker ideology and culture.
In her mind, information should be widely accessible to all, and anybody who abhorred free and open communication didn’t deserve their power.
She’d daydreamed of going so far as Austin to attend the University of Texas and was thrilled to receive a scholarship.
But then, her cousin Ethan came out of the closet. Their entire family disowned him. He’d known it was likely to happen, but still, the loss devastated him. For Sylvie, it was the last straw.
When Ethan called her up and told her he’d moved to L.A., she’d decided to drop out of her freshman year at UT and follow.
They’d lived near one another ever since. Ethan was a freelance graphic designer, so his work was flexible. After Sylvie got the job at Bennett Security, Ethan moved with her to West Oaks.
Neither of them had any family now but each other. None worth mentioning, anyhow.
“Where’s Luis tonight?” Sylvie asked. Often, Ethan’s boyfriend joined them for dinner. They’d been together for five years, but Luis still had his own apartment closer to Los Angeles, where he worked as a photographer.
“Out of town for a few days on a shoot in San Diego. You want to go dancing? We could meet up with that friend I was telling you about, the one from the coffee shop with the soulful eyes who’s recently divorced…”
“Why are people so concerned about my love life all of a sudden?”
“It might be that cranky look you’ve had on your face since your birthday? The big three-o?”
Tanner had implied that she seemed spacey, and Ethan was calling her cranky. Maybe she did need some new friends. “I’m fine with being thirty.”
“Yet you still haven’t opened that birthday card. It’s been sitting there a month now.” Ethan pointed at the console table by the door, where the envelope waited.
“Not because of birthday anxiety. I saw the postmark.”
It had come from Texas. Every once in a while, Sylvie received a postcard or birthday wishes from one of her siblings. But neither of them had ever asked after Ethan. So, she’d chosen not to write back.
She wasn’t angry anymore at her family back home. Just sad for them that they were so closed-minded and afraid.
“But did you turn it over? Did you see the name on the return address?”
“No. Why?”
Ethan shrugged. “Not like it’s my card. But if I were you, I’d be curious.”
She pushed back from the table and went to get the envelope. The back flap had a name she hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Faith Townsend. Sylvie’s closest girlfriend from high school. Back then, she and Faith had schemed together about how they’d escape. How they’d both go to college at UT and assert their freedom. Faith, Sylvie, and Ethan had been inseparable.
But when the Trousseau family shunned Ethan, and Sylvie decided to leave, Faith had ghosted them.
All their years of friendship, all their shared dreams, and Faith had chosen to give it up.
The last Sylvie heard, Faith had married an ex-football player from high school, a guy they’d both decried as a bully.
Sylvie ran her fingers over the envelope. It had little hand-drawn balloons on the outside. She should’ve known it wasn’t one of her siblings. Faith had always enjoyed sketching, just like Sylvie.
“Going to open it now?”
“Nope. I don’t see the point. People are who they are.”
And they don’t really change. Faith had shown her true nature by her choices all those years ago.
“But don’t they deserve a chance to make up for their mistakes?” Ethan regarded her sadly, as if she were the closed-minded person who’d earned his pity and not Faith. “You’re thirty now. Older is supposed to mean wiser.”
“Apparently not. It just means crankier.”
Sylvie opened the lid on the trashcan and tossed the envelope inside.
But later that night, after Ethan had retreated to his own space upstairs, she went back to the trashcan, opened it, and stared down at the blue envelope. It had a stain of grease at the corner.
Faith. Who’d once drawn a line of hearts down Sylvie’s arm on Valentine’s Day, because neither of them had a boyfriend.
She plucked the card out and wiped it with a paper towel. It went into a drawer, still unopened.