Chapter 21
Lizzy
“Does anyone have any questions?” As soon as the words leave my mouth, a plethora of tiny hands rise.
One of the kindergartners is doing a little wiggle dance since she’s so excited. I point to her, and she beams.
“Miss Lewis, why are Harry’s eyes funky?” the blonde girl asks.
I look down at the chameleon in my hands, and sure enough, one eye is directed towards the children and the other towards the wall.
“What a great question! Chameleons like Harry can look in two directions at once. Each eye rotates three hundred and sixty degrees. That means they can see everything around them.”
She nods at my answer, then sits back down. Another boy raises his hand and asks about what Harry eats, so I explain.
“Harry, like other chameleons, is primarily an insectivore. Can anyone guess what that means?” Trying to make the experience as interactive as possible, I wait for the children to answer.
Many hands raise in the air, so I tell them, “You can yell…”
My voice trails when a large hand raised in the back of the room catches my attention. I follow the hand down the attached arm until I’m met with the gleeful eyes of my very sexy neighbor.
He sends me a wink that I feel in my stomach. Butterflies flutter inside me, and when he mouths, “Insects,” I’m completely lost.
“Wha–” I start, only for him to cough and shake his head. He points at the children, and only then do I remember my surroundings.
“You guys can yell it out. What do you think insectivore means?” My voice has a slight wobble to it.
While they shout the correct answer, I take the moment to gather myself. The kids, I need to focus on the kids. I can talk to Bash in ten minutes when they go to the next exhibit.
Showing them Harry’s camouflage, which I saved for last, has them enraptured. I use it to my advantage, feeding off of my audience’s energy. When my timer rings, I inform them that Gemmy will be taking them to the elephants next.
One by one, the room empties, until only two of us remain.
Bash smiles at me, then strolls casually towards me. As the distance diminishes, my nerves get the better of me. I play with my fingers, fidgeting to get the energy out.
Bash gently reaches out and pries my hands apart, holding each in his.
“Come on, angel. There’s no need to be nervous. It’s just me, your secret admirer.” His thumb, running over my palm, fights for my attention, but his words steal my breath.
“Hey, neighbor,” I say softly.
“Hey, Lizzy,” he answers in the same tone.
“What’re you doing here?” Wincing at my abrasiveness, I tack on, “I mean, I’m happy to see you. I’m just surprised.”
“I wanted to bring you lunch. Three days is far too long to go without seeing you.” He throws a hand over his heart to complete his dramatics. I laugh at him and his absurdity.
“Three days is nothing. Also, that’s not true. We ran together yesterday and the day before.”
“Semantics.” He rolls his eyes, then holds out an arm for me. “So, what do you say to lunch together? I said I’d work around your schedule, not that I’d avoid you.”
“Lunch sounds great. What are you in the mood for?” I ask as I take my cue, wrapping my arm around his as he leads me out.
“Whatever you suggest. This is your home turf.”
Somehow, he leads us in the direction of the café, my favorite restaurant at the zoo. I take over directing us, and we wind up in line.
I order my usual, and he does the same, commenting that I must know best, and that he trusts my taste.
Then, to no surprise, he pays for our lunches, then leads us to the swan pond, my favorite spot to eat. He must have incredible intuition, or he’s so similar to me that we have the same preferences.
As we eat, we talk about everything and nothing and all that’s in between. He explains his job at Syndicate Enterprise, helping me understand the depth of his intelligence. This man truly is a genius. It makes his compliments on my intellect even more weighty.
Somehow conversation turns to family, and I explain how I left home at twenty and haven’t looked back since.
I keep it brief by diverting the attention to Tom and Betty.
I let it slip that they want to meet him, and he agrees to a Saturday dinner as long as I come to one of his family Sunday dinners.
He then goes into his family. He clearly loves them greatly, especially his nieces. All I can think is, bless his poor sister-in-law because triplets sound impossible.
It’s a perfect lunch date. Nothing could change that.
Until a shadow moves to my peripheral.
All the air leaves my lungs. My lunch churns in my stomach as horror and fear overwhelm me.
Because to our left, standing in the shadow of a tree, is a ghost.
He raises his hand with a smirk and waves at me.
The sound that leaves me is one of terror and disbelief. Chills break out over me even as sweat beads on my forehead.
“Lizzy, what’s wrong?” Bash asks roughly. His hand landing on my shoulder wakes me from my nightmare.
I turn to face him and deliberate what to tell him. It can’t be the truth. I have to take the truth to the grave with me. But I don’t want to lie.
“Lizzy, talk to me,” he begs.
“Sorry. I just… thought I saw someone I used to know.” I stumble over the words, but manage to get them out.
Bash whirls around to stare at the tree, jumping to his feet. But when I turn, no one’s there. Nor near it. I shake my head, sure that I imagined it.
“Who did you see? Who elicits such fear in you?” Bash crouches in front of me but looks over his shoulder several times.
But I know he won’t see anyone. Because no one is there. Because ghosts aren’t real, and that man was left for dead six years ago.
“Lizzy, if you can tell me who he is, then I can protect you,” Bash’s voice is gentle as he cups my cheek. I lean into his hold, then place my palm on top of his hand.
“He wasn’t there. The man I thought I saw, he’s dead. So, it couldn’t be him.” I don’t want to admit that it was definitely him, but that I conjured him in my imagination, so I let him believe that it was someone else. A stranger.
“Are you sure?” His hesitation warms my heart. This sweet man truly would protect me if there was a man after me. Or at least he’d try.
“Yes.” The image of his corpse covered in scarlet liquid appears in my mind. The memory includes the sulfuric smell of his blood as he lay unconscious at my feet. “I’m one hundred percent sure.”
“Okay.” Bash hesitates, then wraps his arms around me. “No need to let strangers ruin our lunch. I worked hard to make this a good date.”
I return the hug, seeking comfort in this godsend. He freely comforts me, supports me, spoils me. He’s nothing like Vincent. And he never will be.
Bash accompanies me back to the reptile exhibit, and when my break ends, he gives me a kiss on the cheek, then leaves.
Despite being rational, I look over my shoulder countless times the rest of the day. The paranoia overcomes me, causing me to leave work early.
I only feel safe once I’m locked inside my home. And most of that secure feeling comes from the knowledge that Bash is just over the fence in my backyard.