Saturday, December 17
Garrett was proud of his place. He purchased the two-story house on five wooded acres in this two-bit county after being hired as a police officer, while he was still single.
Then Carolyn came along. She nabbed him. The best word to describe the length of their marriage was—brief. Damn, he must forget her.
With the weather much warmer than expected for the season and his day off, Garrett was glad to be outside, breathe fresh air, and tackle the plentiful droppings shed by his trees that had accumulated by his back door.
After the cleanup, he planned to hike down to his creek. If he’s lucky, he’ll spot deer or other wildlife at the watering hole. This slice of paradise was nothing like his crappy hometown, where dumpster-diving rats were the extent of the wildlife.
On that note, his cell phone rang. But which one? Garrett had a phone in each pocket. The right pocket held his work phone; the left pocket contained his personal one. He dropped the rake and waited for a second ring.
It was a personal call. He didn’t want it to be work. That phone only rang to announce someone’s death or to discuss it. Garrett didn’t recognize the number but answered because he was expecting a call.
“Is this Garrett?”
It was a woman. Aside from the agent from Soomers Insurance, he had no interest in any women. Nor would he ever.
“Yes, it is. Is this Jen about my auto policy?”
“No,” the caller giggled impishly. “I’m Bonnie, Lizzie Talbert’s friend.”
Garrett froze. Why the hell did Ed’s wife give this woman his number? Baffled about what to say, he muddled along. “Er … hi, Bonnie. Ed … was just talking about you.”
She giggled again. “I hope it was all good.”
“Well …” Garrett mumbled, tripping over his tongue and having nowhere else to go. He stunk at this. “Ed mentioned you were a friend of his wife. He didn’t have time … time for more details.”
The woman on the phone suggested what he took to be more of a demand. “I think we should get together over dinner.”
Not literally cornered, he nonetheless felt cornered as he stood in the middle of his yard. “Uh... my squad is swamped right now.”
“What? You usually eat, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
Bonnie released a full, throaty laugh; it sounded quite cynical. “There you go, Garrett. Now, you don’t have a valid reason not to meet me.”
Garrett concluded he thought better on his feet as a homicide detective than as a potential date. No longer backed into a corner, his back was against the wall.
“Umm, you got me there, Bonnie.”
“It’s a date then. I’m off Wednesday; why don’t we go out on Tuesday night?” she said, zeroing in for the kill. “That way, I won’t have to worry about coming home.”
Damn, she wants to spend the night with him. He was trapped. They would only go out one time! Thank goodness. But he had nothing to be thankful for.
Garrett sucked in about a year’s worth of oxygen. “Hmm … how about I pick you up around six? We can go to the Lakeside Inn. Text me your address.”
“My pleasure,” she replied eagerly. “Are you familiar with Pinecrest?”
“I most certainly am! I’m a member of law enforcement!” he snapped, more curtly than he intended.
“Oh, like a fireman, you know all the addresses.”
Not like a fireman. Nothing like a fireman. And he wouldn’t be picking her up in a red truck with a ladder on top, either.
Before he could refute, contradict, or even announce a sudden emergency surgery, the barracuda, who was adept at this, had a few comeback lines.
“I’m looking forward to meeting you, Garrett. You know, we have one thing in common,” she cooed.
Planted among the decaying leaves, Garrett was sliding downhill fast, without brakes. He wondered what, if anything, they might have in common, or worse, something this pushy woman might surprise him with on Tuesday.
He hated to inquire, but driven by the fear of the unknown, he asked, “What’s that, Bonnie?”
“We’re both single!” she gushed, then disconnected the call.
He got the surprise early! She expects to get married. Garrett might be trying to get his head on straight, but desperate Bonnie saw things in a different light. He groaned.
Forget the leaves or a walk in the woods. Forget communing with deer or any wildlife. He has something more urgent to forget—the crazy woman trying to lasso him.
Intending to swear off beer, Garrett found the idea premature and preposterous. A cold brew appeared in order, maybe the whole six-pack, to drown out any memories of Ms. Wedding Bells. But after the booze, then what?
* * *
Angelica dreamed of sleep, but it wasn’t her reality.
Exhausted and eager to reclaim what she had lost, she lay curled under a blanket on the couch, hoping for a human version of a catnap with her kitty at her feet.
Startled by the sound of her front door opening, she sat up, and Daisy scampered away.
Angelica recoiled at the sight of the uninvited guest standing in her home. “What are you doing here, and didn’t you ever hear of knocking, Matt?”
The tall man with the rugged, chiseled features held out a box wrapped in colorful Elf, Santa, and Rudolph paper. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “I came to drop this off.”
The heck with the paper; he was a daft elf. Angelica tossed the covers aside and growled as she hobbled around her sofa, her right foot asleep. She planted her hands on her hips.
“Christmas or not, I don’t want anything from you!” she said, bitingly.
“This isn’t for you. It’s for my sister, Emily. Promise me you won’t open it.”
“You came to my house with a present for someone else? Are you out of your mind?”
Matt approached her with his brightest smile. All caps. She stepped back. “Don’t be like that, Angelica. I was on this side of town and didn’t want to leave it in my truck. I thought I’d pick it up in a few days before I go to her house.”
“Good grief, you’re hopeless!” Angelica sneered at the guy who didn’t serve as a sleeping pill. “Now that you’re here, we need to talk,” she announced in her best authoritarian tone, which couldn’t even scare her cat. Let’s face it, she lacked backbone.
Every time she took a bold step in life, she retreated half a mile to see if it was safe to come out of hiding. At this point, it didn’t appear she would ever take control of her life.
He placed the box on the corner of her desk. “I’d love to stay, but I can’t,” Matt mumbled. “I’m late for a business appointment.”
“Likely story …”
“It’s the truth, sweetheart …”
Angelica rolled her eyes at his attempt to sweet-talk. Men are all the same—slick, smooth talkers, and quick to leave the room. Any room when they’re done.
Her boyfriend leaned against the doorframe, and his biceps flexed as he crossed his arms. “Why don’t we go to the Lakeside Inn for dinner on Tuesday?”
Matt’s muscular arms and chest once heightened his appeal. Not anymore. As she gripped the back of the desk chair and wiggled her sleeping toes, she huffed, “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, inching closer. “What do you have to lose?”
Him! She wanted to lose him! Angelica backed away and spotted the unfinished artwork on her desk. Unfinished because she had been fretting over this guy, stifling her creative side.
“Okay, I’ll go, but I’m driving myself.”
“That’s wonderful, babe. You’ll see, everything will be great again. Meet me in the lobby at seven and wear something nice.”
Matt cozied up to Angelica and kissed the top of her head. She cringed as her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend exited the door, not welcoming him.
Was she out of her mind? Why did she agree to dine with him? Then again, since the restaurant is a public place, there would be safety in numbers for her to say adiós to Matt. A man she shouldn’t have gone out with in the first place. Just her luck.
Her double bad luck! Matt was the man who rushed to Angelica’s aid when she called roadside assistance for a flat tire.
The magnetic pull of an attractive male body.
She needs to stay away from men, especially those connected to automobiles, whether it’s the wealthy guy who owns luxury dealerships or the one scraping by behind the wheel of a tow truck and wielding a spray-paint gun.
At least she had time to prepare her goodbye speech. Oops! Leah suggested an old boyfriend as her out. We’ll see. Matt’s ego is due for a dose of the truth.
Angelica scrutinized the wrapped box, roughly the size of a loaf of carrot cake. The box barely budged when she tried to lift it. Was it a paperweight? Not likely; it was as heavy as a brick. She didn’t want a brick, but she considered throwing it at him.
Clearing the last traces of Matt from the room, Angelica carried the box two-handedly to her bedroom. She placed the present, sloppily sealed with packing tape, on the floor at the back of her closet. She needed a simpler life, and that life wouldn’t include men.
* * *
An hour later, with the stench of Matt no longer in the air, Angelica returned to the new groove—sketching with colored pencils in a fatigued state.
Going back to work after years of rehab and time spent locked in the penthouse tower proved more daunting than she had anticipated. She needed a sharp mind and boundless energy to knock this project out of the park. Sadly, she felt like a soccer ball being kicked across the park.
None of this would bode well with Henry and Fooster, her gig employer. Deadlines usually don’t come and go except after you’ve finished the project. Unless the publisher decides to make it sooner, because they can. Ugh!
Angelica didn’t hear the engine, only the crunch of the slick two-seater’s tires. As she shifted her attention from her artwork to the window above the desk, her eyebrows jumped to new heights. Oh, my gosh! She buried her face in her hands. She just couldn’t get away from him.
It seemed her ears were primed for sounds today. The slamming of the car door, the crunching of gravel under the leather soles of his tasseled shoes—no doubt highly polished black ones—that thumped as he climbed the wooden steps.
Knock ... knock ...