4. Harvey
Chapter 4
Harvey
I watch my phone screen, the undetectable camera facing the hallway alerting me that there’s been movement. The moment I saw Aspen’s face, I had that feeling again, the same one I’ve had the last few times I’ve seen her.
Listen to your gut. There’s something not right.
I squint, peering through the peephole as I watch the man who left her apartment punch the elevator button. He glances to his right, then his left, pulling out his phone and taking a call before stepping into the elevator. Once the doors shut, I open my own door and walk toward Aspen’s apartment.
My hand pauses halfway to her door as I lean my ear against it. There’s no sound coming from the other side. I continue my movement, rapping my knuckles against the door with three quick taps.
“Aspen?” I say her name, hoping that if she knows it’s me, she’ll open it. I knock again when there’s no movement. This time, I hear the lock slowly move, then the handle turns and the door opens slightly.
“Yes?” Her timid voice sounds shaky but once she sees that it’s me, she opens the door a little wider. “Hey, Harvey.”
I wave awkwardly, quickly transitioning to running my hand through my hair. “Sorry to bother you, but are you okay?”
She stares up at me, her eyes wide. They shift from side to side quickly, then back to me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
I nod my head slowly, realizing that whatever is going on with her, she clearly has no interest in telling me about it.
“Actually, I really came over to ask if you wanted to grab a drink.”
“Oh.”
It’s a lie but I learned a long time ago that sometimes you have to lie if it means protecting someone.
“Doesn’t have to be a drink, could be food.” I try to stand in a nonintimidating manner, but it’s damn near impossible when you’re my size and towering over a mouse of a woman. But I don’t back down, don’t give her the out, just another option.
“A drink would be great.” She still has the door practically closed around her shoulders. “Let me just grab my purse.” She closes the door briefly, only reopening it enough to squeeze between the door and the frame when she exits her apartment. Clearly, Aspen Wilder isn’t fond of people in her home which makes me wonder all the more who the bastard was that so boldly pushed himself inside earlier when her face made it clear she didn’t want him there.
Her arms are clutching her purse as she hugs it against herself. I look down at her slight frame, her delicate shoulder looking dwarfed beneath her oversized blouse. She doesn’t look at me in the reflection of the door. She just stares straight ahead, her body rigid.
My all-black ensemble is a stark contrast to the pale-gray of her skirt and the cream of her sweater. It’s not her usual style of bright floral dresses and buttons that look like strawberries.
“You know, you always remind of me of Strawberry Shortcake.”
Her head snaps up, her eyes meeting mine as a warm smile stretches her lips. “Thank you, I loved Strawberry Shortcake as a kid so that’s a lovely compliment.” Her voice is airy, light like a whimsical whisper.
“You been to Jaspers?” I point toward the small martini bar at the far corner of the block. “Good drinks and less than a block away.”
“I haven’t but sounds good.”
I don’t touch her as we walk down the sidewalk after noticing the way she flinched when the man earlier invaded her space. We take a seat in a small booth in a far corner of the mostly empty bar, placing our order with the waitress and settling into our seats.
“Why’d you ask me to get a drink?”
I smirk at her forwardness. She’s timid but bold. “Why not?” I lean back in the booth, my legs stretching out beneath the table. “We are neighbors, have been for a while now, and I guess we could consider ourselves friends?” She scrunches up her face. “Acquaintances?”
“Friendly acquaintances.” She smiles.
“That become friends?” She nods and takes a sip of her water when the waitress brings our drinks around. “To becoming friends.” I lift my martini, gently bumping my glass to hers.
“I haven’t seen you around much. Jameson said you guys took some time off?”
I nod. “Yeah, much needed. The last few cases we had were a lot. The guys needed time with their families.”
“Did you spend time with your family?” I stare at her for a moment, the sudden urge to tell her that I don’t have any family anymore almost overtaking me, but I push it away.
“I didn’t. I just continued to take on jobs, some of which had me away for a while. How’s your job? I think I heard you got a promotion so congrats.” I lift my glass again, but she doesn’t. Her eyes shift down and away from mine and I watch as her throat constricts tightly.
“Thank you, yes, I did.” She spins the glass around by the base.
“Who was he?” I finally say and her face goes white. She lifts her glass to her lips, taking a much longer drink than before. She closes her eyes, the liquor clearly burning her chest as she swallows it.
“My boss.”
“Your boss? He came to your home?” My brow knits together. “Did you invite him over?” I already know the answer, but it’s confirmed when she shakes her head no. My chest tightens.
“Is that why you brought me here?” Her shoulders shift back, her demeanor shifting.
“Is that why you looked at me the way that you did?” I stare back at her, but she doesn’t answer me. “Look, Aspen, I’m not going to lie to you or play games. I can read people. It’s my job; it’s saved my life and thousands of other lives so when I tell you that it’s clear you’re in a situation, I know what I’m talking about. I don’t know if you did something to get there or you’re just collateral damage for some rich piece of shit, but I can help you.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not anything you need to worry about. I’m fine.” She downs the rest of her martini and reaches for her purse but before she can slide out of the booth, I stretch my leg out and block her.
“You’re not and I’m not letting you leave her until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Harvey.” She says my name in a way that sends a completely different signal to my brain. “I appreciate this, but we don’t know each other. We have friends in common and you’re nice, but I’m not in any trouble. My boss is just—he just overstepped a boundary is all.”
Maybe it’s the liquor on an empty stomach but the flush from her cheeks travels down her neck to her exposed collarbones. Her eyes seem a touch glassy and a smile has settled over her lips.
“Overstepped a boundary how?” I motion for the waitress to bring us another round.
“He—it was nothing. We just kissed once and I think I gave him the wrong impression.”
I smile at the waitress, but my chest is burning. I can only imagine how a man like him overstepped a boundary.
“I didn’t picture you as a martini guy.” She nods toward my glass, taking a drink from her fresh martini.
“No? Why not?” I lift the glass and savor the bitterness.
“Look at you.” She giggles, the alcohol taking over. “You’re—you know.”
“I’m what?” I bait her, selfishly wanting this to turn flirty, but that’s not what tonight is about. I know plying her with alcohol is a cheap shot, but it’s the only way I know I’ll be able to get any ounce of truth from her about this guy. “Look too much like Jason Momoa to enjoy a martini?”
“Scary,” she blurts out, then clamps her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, not in a mean way.”
“You’re scared of me?” I narrow my gaze on her.
“Maybe.” She sips her drink. “A little, yes.”
“Why?” She shrugs. “Really, you’re not going to tell me why you’re scared of me? Did I do something?”
“No, nothing in particular. You’re just big and”—she looks at my exposed arms that are resting on the table, her voice trailing off a little—“the tattoos.”
“You don’t like the tattoos?” Instinctively, my arm flexes a little and her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip when she watches the movement.
“No, no! I do, I like them a lot actually.” She lifts her hand and reaches out to trace the outline of one of mine. “Do they all mean something?”
Either I’m fucking crazy or this martini went straight to my head, but I need to steer this conversation back toward her boss because the way she’s looking at me right now has my mind going in a completely different direction. I watch her finger trace the outline of my tattoo, her eyes following her movements. I clear my throat and sit back, breaking the contact.
“No, they don’t. I just liked them so I got them.” She’s still lost in thought, staring at my arms. “So why did he come over tonight?”
“Who? Oh.” Her face falls again. “He just wanted to see my new place.”
“And he didn’t take no for an answer?”
She squirms. “I-I didn’t tell him no.”
“Why not?” She shrugs again and I lean forward. “Aspen, are you too scared to tell him no?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s not that. I-I’m a people pleaser,” she says, a little ashamed. “I know it’s a horrible habit and I need to learn to say no, but I didn’t and I should have. I just told him I had a boyfriend instead so he’d get the hint.”
“You realize that isn’t normal to have to tell your boss you have a boyfriend so that he will respect your boundaries? Or any man for that matter?” My blood pressure is ratcheting up and I think of my military training. Reacting emotionally is a quick and easy way to get yourself killed or completely blowing your cover.
“I— It’s hard navigating things like this, especially when I need my job.” Her face grows serious. “But I can navigate it…” She looks at me. “On my own.”
“Okay.” It’s not okay and this in no way means I’m going to stop paying attention if he comes around again, but I also realize that I can’t force her to accept my help. The last thing I want is to make her life harder or get her fired, so the only thing I can do right now is trust that she can handle it like she says. “On that note, do you regret grabbing a drink with me?”
“No, I needed it.” She pulls her oversized cream sweater down her arms and tosses it next to her purse, her light-pink blouse still overwhelming her.
Her physical appearance, the obvious weight loss, the tightly slicked-back hair and oversized clothes tell me there’s so much more to this problem than meets the eye. This isn’t just a misunderstanding between two adults. This is a toxic situation that I hope she can claw her way out of so that I don’t have to get involved.
“Have you hung out with Blaire, Harper, or Juliette lately?” I ask, referring to our mutual friends.
“Not too much. They’ve been busy with baby and pregnancy stuff and with my new job I just got busy.”
“What is the new job by the way?”
“Oh, I’m a cyber security systems analyst. Senior systems analyst actually.” She says the last part almost under her breath.
“Hey, that’s something to be really proud of. Sounds like something the smart kids in school would end up doing.”
“Yeah.” She shrugs again, her eyes drifting from mine which has me wondering why she wouldn’t be proud of herself for the promotion. “Thanks again for this.” She motions between us. “Like I said, I needed it. But”—she reaches for her purse and sweater—“I should probably get back home.”
“Thanks for joining me.” I toss a few bills on the table and walk her back outside toward our building. The elevator ride is silent, her shoulder so close to me that she bumps against me when the car starts to move. When the door opens to our floor and she takes the few steps to exit, her heel gets caught in the small crack, causing her to spill forward with her arms outstretched.
“Oh!” she yelps, her purse and sweater falling to the floor as I reach one arm around her waist, the other to hold the doors open that threaten to close.
“Are you okay?” Her body is pressed against mine. I look down to make sure her ankle isn’t twisted but it is. She slides down, reaching for her ankle as she whines in pain.
“Ow, it hurts.” I pull her foot from her shoe so that I can loosen it from the crack, her hand balancing on my shoulder as I kneel in front of her.
“Can you put pressure on it?” Her toes meet the carpet and she releases herself from my shoulder for a second before doubling over.
“Oh God!” She hops in place as I gather her things from the floor, slinging her purse over my shoulder along with her sweater before grabbing her around the waist.
“Hold on to my shoulder?” I put her hand on my shoulder, my one arm around her waist as I lift her into my arms and walk toward her door.
“I can hop.”
“No sense in that,” I say, putting her down gently before walking back to grab her shoe. She rifles through her purse for her key, sliding it into the lock. She looks up at me before slowly turning the handle and opening her door. Before she protests, I pick her up again and walk her inside to sit her on her couch.
“I’m okay, Harvey,” she tries to insist, even attempting to stand up again before whining and sitting back down.
I open a drawer next to her fridge, finding a small plastic bag and filling it with ice. Next, I grab a dish towel, wrapping it around the bag of ice. I crouch down in front of her, reaching down to slowly remove her other shoe first. I slip the delicate strap from her ankle, reaching for the other foot and placing it in my lap with the bag of ice. She hisses when the cold hits her skin.
“Looks like it’s a bit swollen already.” I rub my thumb against her ankle, her foot jerking slightly.
“Ticklish.” She blushes.
“Sorry.” I move the ice around, slowly moving her ankle in a small circular motion. “How’s that feel?”
“Hurts a little but I think it’s getting better.”
“Take an anti-inflammatory for the swelling.” I wrap the towel with ice around her ankle and swivel it up to rest on the couch next to her.
“Thank you,” she whispers softly, and my eyes can’t help but fall to her pink lips that have a perfect little Cupid’s bow at the top. I’m struck with the urge to lean in and sink my teeth into her plump bottom lip.
“I should get going but if you need anything”—I look down at her ankle and pull my phone from my pocket—“actually, give me your number. I’ll send you a text so you have my contact information. That way you reach me without having to get up.”
She reads off her phone number and I store it, sending her a quick test text. Her phone dings on the island behind me. I walk over and grab it, handing it to her.
“I mean it. If you need anything, give me a call.”
“Thanks, but I’m sure by morning this will be totally fine.” She laughs, shaking her head at herself as she rubs her ankle.
“I don’t mean just for that or just tonight.” Her lips slowly part as she stares up at me. “If he comes back again, Aspen, it’s going to be a problem.”