3. Nia
3
NIA
Ella’s eyes bore into me like twin lasers, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and concern, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve finally crossed some invisible line into madness. It’s not every day that you witness a scene straight out of a crime drama, and the more I replay it in my mind, the more surreal it feels.
“I’m telling you,” I insist, my voice climbing in pitch, fueled by the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. “The backpack just toppled over, drugs spilled out like something from a bad movie, and then—get this—the hot cop arrested his friend! Even though it was painfully obvious the bag wasn’t his. I swear, Ella, it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion when there’s nothing you can do but eat some popcorn and see the destruction left in its wake.”
Ella doesn’t say a word, just continues to stare at me, her eyebrows creeping higher with each passing second, until the silence becomes almost unbearable. I can feel the weight of her skepticism pressing down on me, making me fidget in place. The parking lot around us feels strangely empty, the distant hum of traffic a dull backdrop to our increasingly tense conversation.
“I’m serious, Ella.” I lean in closer, my eyes locked on hers, hoping to convey the sheer insanity of what I’ve just witnessed. “Stop looking at me like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m telling you, something seriously wonky just happened in there.” My words tumble out in a rush, a frantic attempt to make her understand that this isn’t some figment of my overactive imagination.
We’re just about ready to leave the roller rink, the air still thick with the scent of pizza and the remnants of childhood chaos, when Lyla—my darling, sometimes infuriating, little niece—decides she has to use the bathroom. Of course, this isn’t just any quick bathroom break. No, with Lyla, everything has to be a production, a full-blown routine that involves everything from washing her hands meticulously to checking her reflection in the mirror like she’s preparing for a photo shoot.
Which is absolutely ridiculous since she’s freaking nine, not nineteen.
So here we are, standing outside the roller rink in the dimming light of early evening, waiting for what feels like an eternity. The neon sign flickers above us, casting a garish pink glow over the parking lot, and I can’t help but think about how ridiculous this day has been. From the bizarre scene with the cop to now being held hostage by a nine-year-old’s bathroom habits, it’s all just a little too much.
“I’m just saying, it’s suspicious,” I mutter, more to myself than to Ella, who’s currently leaning against the brick wall of the building, her eyes scanning the parking lot as if she might find some hidden clue out there.
“Did you see handcuffs?” Ella asks, staring at the cars in the parking lot.
That catches me by surprise. “No.” I think back an hour, trying to figure out if there were cuffs or anything else used. “No. No handcuffs.”
“Then he didn’t arrest him,” Ella counters my earlier statement. “If he was under arrest, there would have been handcuffs at the very least. Or Miranda rights.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket. “My husband’s a lawyer, Nia. Plus, I doubt the cop would arrest his friend.”
Lyla comes bounding out of the bathroom, and I laugh at the way she just skips around, like her mom and I aren’t debating the merits of someone being arrested.
“Let’s go to dinner.” Ella opens the driver’s side door. “We can get something delicious on the way to the hotel, then maybe go swimming.”
“Swimming,” I gasp and pop my head into Lyla’s open window. “Do you want to go swimming with me?”
“You’re being boring, Auntie Nia.” Lyla sighs and leans back against her seat. “Of course I want to go swimming. But can we go for pizza? I really, really want some cheese pizza. Extra cheese,” she adds on as an afterthought while opening one eye and staring at the back of her mother’s head.
With a small chuckle, I get into the passenger seat and buckle in while Ella starts the car.
“Let’s go already,” Lyla groans from the back seat. “My stomach feels like it’s eating itself. I’m starving.”
“Your stomach isn’t eating itself,” Ella reassures her, her tone that perfect mix of motherly patience and mild exasperation. She doesn’t even glance away from the road as she continues. “But we’re like a block from the pizza place. Breathe, and we’ll get you fed, you hungry little monster.” Her words are punctuated by the flicker of the turn signal as she steers the car toward our dinner destination, and I can’t help but smile at the ease with which she juggles motherhood and everything else life throws at her.
Lyla huffs dramatically from the back seat, her arms crossing over her chest in a show of indignation, but she doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the short drive. Instead, she contents herself with watching the world pass by through the window, her little fingers drumming a rhythm on her leg as the excitement of pizza and swimming looms ever closer. The restaurant, a cozy little place across from the hotel Ella booked for our girls’ weekend, soon comes into view, its warm lights beckoning us inside.
Although, we both knew that we’d be at that hotel, since our aunt and uncle run the place.
When Ella jumps out of the back seat and practically drags us to the front of the restaurant, all we can do is laugh.
“Thank you for coming for the weekend,” Ella says once we are seated and our pizza order is placed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The look in her eyes, like she genuinely wouldn’t know, hits me right where it hurts.
“Hey.” I bump her shoulder with mine, while Lyla stares at her tablet and pretends to ignore us. “You can’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders like that all the time. I’m here. Rich is here… well, not really. He’s at home holding down the fort. But the point is the same. You’re not alone.”
The side of my sister’s mouth twitches, but she doesn’t smile. Not really. “I’m so scared something’s going to happen to her.”
“Eh.” I wait to say anything else because our food arrives and Lyla puts the screen away long enough to stuff her face. Plus, my stomach growls at the scent of pepperoni and bacon mingling together. “She’s got you and Rich in her corner, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that if someone tried to hurt his little girl, Rich would go scorched earth on everything in his path.”
“Daddy said going scorched earth means you destroy all the things in your way.” Lyla burps loudly. “I’m gonna go scorched earth if I don’t get a really good teacher this year.”
We eat the rest of our meal in companionable silence, until I realize that Lyla has completely devoured an entire cheese pizza and has her eyes on my cheese breadsticks.
“Do you have a tapeworm or something?” I ask while pushing my plate across the table so she can reach.
While the little heathen eats what I’d planned on taking back to my room for later, she smiles toothily. “I don’t have any worms,” she manages to say between bites. “Dad said I wasn’t allowed to bring them in the house anymore, so they’re all in the backyard, waiting to be picked for fishing.”
“I’m really glad I have my own room at the hotel,” I groan as I finish the last piece of pizza on my plate.
“You mean you don’t want to stay up all night watching movies with us?” Ella scoots out of the booth and gives me room to get out, too. “That’s not very nice of you.”
Lyla snorts and hops out of her side, grabbing me by the hand. “You’re smarter than I am, that’s for sure. Wanna kidnap me for the night? We could watch scary movies instead.” There is such blatant hope in her eyes that for a second I think about doing it. I think about turning around and giving my sister the stink eye and taking Lyla back with me.
Then I see the devastated look on Ella’s face. The one that only a sister will understand.
It stops me in my tracks and has me crouching down to Lyla’s level. Although, I don’t actually have to crouch that low since she is only a foot shorter than my five-foot-two stature.
“You know,” I say quickly, taking her surprised look in stride. Then I shoo Ella away so that she can go pay for our food and get out of our hair. “Your mom wanted to have a girls’ weekend, and then I forced my way into coming along. I think it’s really important that you have your girls’ night together. Movies, the face masks I know you convinced her to bring, and probably a manicure if you get those eyes wide enough when you ask.”
Lyla’s smirk is devious, and I know she is about to turn on the charm. Too bad I taught her almost everything she knows and am not having any of her attitude.
“Plus, your birthday is coming up.” I pop my lips together. “I’d think you’d want to get as many good points as you could before you ask for the big-ticket items.” With a wink, I stand up, ending the conversation, and take her hand in mine. “Let’s go break the news to your momma. She’s stuck with you for the night while I get to sleep in.”
Lyla crosses her arms over her chest after pulling her hand away from mine and pouting only the way my niece can, muttering under her breath. “Not fair… I wanna sleep in too. Mom snores.”
Ella stands at the front of the restaurant waiting for us, so that ends Lyla’s complaints. Especially when she sees the cake box in her mom’s hands.
“What’s that?” Her eyes go wide.
Ella just laughs and leads the way outside. “I know you, Lyla. You think I’m not prepared to bribe you into wanting to stay with me instead of Auntie Nia?”
Lyla stares at her mom for a second and then turns back to me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Auntie.”
They get in Ella’s car and drive across the street, but I decide to walk. After all, it isn’t like I’m going very far.
When I finally make it across the street a few minutes later, after waiting for the longest light in the history of lights, a police cruiser cuts me off and pulls into the parking lot with its lights flashing.
Shock doesn’t even come close to the emotion I’m feeling when the hot cop from earlier pops out, even wearing the hat that goes with his uniform.
He doesn’t see me, thankfully, since I have my mouth hanging open while I stare at the way his pants continue to hug his ass as he walks toward the front office.
Not ashamed of myself in the slightest, I follow him and stay in the background, eavesdropping on the conversation he has with the receptionist.
“Hey, Charlie,” the cop says, talking to my uncle like they are old friends.
“Josh, I’m glad it’s you.” Uncle Charlie smiles at me briefly before turning all of his attention back to the cop I can’t take my eyes off.
“There’s an awful lot of noise coming from room 202, and I’ve had a bunch of complaints about it. I’m hoping you can handle it without having to arrest anyone.”
“I’ll check it out, Charlie.” The cop turns suddenly and catches me staring at him through the open door.
“Excuse me,” I mutter through flushed cheeks as I try to think of some reason I need to be in the front office. “I just need to get by.”
For a second, I think he won’t move. The side of his mouth ticks up, and that damn dimple pops up again, melting what is left of my panties from being in such close proximity to him.
Why is it so bad? Because I can smell him. I can smell the hint of his cologne, mixed with musk and woods, which I shouldn’t be able to smell. So yeah, against all logic, my ovaries decide that is exactly the moment they need to come to life, demanding that I do something about it.
Then he bites his lip, and I’m pretty sure I groan because I see the smile on his face.
We stand there for what feels like an hour, locked in a stalemate, while I need to get into the office for an imaginary reason, and he needs to leave to deal with the noise complaint that Charlie mentioned. But neither of us move. At least not until Charlie coughs indelicately.
“Sorry, Josh. I should help the guest from room 222, and you should deal with the noise complaint before things get out of hand.”
I raise an eyebrow at the cop, doing my best to put on my resting bitch face, but I can still feel the blush in my cheeks.
With a parting glance that only serves to ignite the lust currently brimming in my veins, the cop moves aside and walks away without looking back.
“I can’t believe you, Uncle Charlie.” I walk into the office and tap the front desk while he smiles at me innocently. “Giving a stranger my room number. What will Aunt Margie say about that?”
“She’ll probably laugh.” He pulls a beer out from under the desk. “When we were at dinner with your folks last week, I heard all about how your mother wants you to settle down. Margie took offense to that and said that you were allowed to be as wild as you want to be.”
He pulls out a second beer and holds it out in his hand. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I’ll take it to go. Since apparently, you’re sending hot cops to my room for me.”
“Just don’t be too loud.” He chuckles and waves me out the door, while he picks up his phone, no doubt about to call Aunt Margie to give her the update on my supposed wildness. “I’d hate to have to call the cops on ya, girl.”
“You know I’m not that wild, Uncle Charlie.” I tap the doorway, looking over my shoulder at him.
“That’s a shame, Nia.” Uncle Charlie laughs again, holding the phone away from his ear. “Both your aunt and I wish there was just a little bit more wild in you, child.”
I leave, waving the beer in the air, and try to decide if I want the hot cop to show up at my door or not.
One more look at his ass while he’s walking up the stairs, and I know that I definitely want him to show up.
But I don’t think I’ve ever been that lucky in my entire life.