23
Leo set out for an early morning run. He ran the length of Duval, from the gulf to the Atlantic. When he reached the concrete
buoy marking the southernmost point in the continental US, the sun was rising. Dawn broke in waves of red, blue, and gold—a
sky on fire. A feeling that he’d ignored thus far took grip. He did not want to leave. He had no desire to climb back in that
car and resume his redemption tour. He considered staying on a couple more days. The next idea, the next big thing, wasn’t
in Charleston. It was here, and he could feel it. He’d come to Key West for a specific reason. It hadn’t panned out and it
hurt, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make the most of it.
Back at The Aurora, it was odd to find the property hollowed out, though he had no complaints. It perfectly fit his mood.
Despite his better judgment, he crossed the lobby, ventured down the hall to the back stairs leading to her room on the top
floor. The doors were left wide-open, possibly for housekeeping staff. Leo didn’t dare enter and violate her space, even though
she’d long vacated it, and nothing remained of her, except for the rumpled sheets on the bed that must enviably retain her
scent. The open cupboard doors and general chaos suggested that she’d packed in a hurry. Last night, they’d said their goodbyes
in the lobby. Leo followed her cues and kept it brief. She avoided his eyes. In the early morning, she took off like a thief.
Noon
Leo was arranging to extend his stay two nights when he was offered a discount for the week. He handed over his credit card
to the front desk clerk.
“You’re still here! When will you be heading off?”
It was Daphne, a porter leading the way with a trolley loaded with her luggage and boxes of promotional brochures.
“I’m staying,” he said.
“Checkout is at one,” she said. “Stay any longer and it’s on you.”
“Don’t worry. I got it.”
She frowned. “You’re . . . staying? For real?”
“One week.”
“Here? Alone?”
He told her about his friend’s house in Charleston, the burst pipes, the damage, and the mess.
“I’ll keep my condo, thanks very much,” Daphne said. “These old houses are charming until the wiring sparks and the roof caves.
I need something built in this century.”
“Where are you off to?” he asked.
“My parents’ house, to spend time with my mother until April.” Without any sort of transition, she asked, “What are you doing
later? Want to meet for a drink?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I never really got a chance to hang out with you guys over the weekend. Now it’s over and I need to decompress.”
2:00 p.m.
After lunch, Leo escaped the heat in his room. He selected a book at random and read a couple of chapters, then worked on
an outline until it was time to meet with Daphne.
3:00 p.m.
Jules wheeled her suitcase into the lobby of The Aurora. She was greeted warmly by the front desk clerk. “Ms. Jones! How great
to have you back! We can offer a free upgrade.”
“No, thanks,” she said. “I liked my room. Is it available?”
“It’s yours,” the clerk said. “And we have a special promotion if you book the week.”
“I’ll take it.”
7:00 p.m.
Leo met with Daphne at a bar promoting Mojito Mondays, a two-for-one special for locals. “We reclaim the city after the bulk
of the tourists clear out, or we try to.”
“Will they kick me out?” he asked, amused.
“Stick with me,” she said. “You’re good.”
They chose a table near an open window. The sinewy trunks of palm trees shot past the window’s frame. Daphne ordered a mojito.
He ordered the same, but virgin.
“Did I miss something?” Daphne asked. “Since when are you a virgin?”
“Since I don’t like who I am when I’m drunk.”
She dropped her hands onto her lap. “How did I miss that?”
“It’s in my Substack,” he said coolly. “Sign up for updates on my personal crisis management.”
Daphne didn’t react to the joke. She looked about, no longer content with her choice of venue. “Had I known, I would’ve picked
someplace else. We can leave, if you want.”
This was why Leo avoided talking about his sobriety, people wanting to go out of their way to accommodate him.
The last thing he wanted was to make his problem everybody else’s problem.
He’d made a conscious decision to curb his reliance on tobacco and alcohol and the like, not to opt out of life. “Daphne, that’s the last thing I want.”
“Alright.”
When the drinks arrived, they toasted his newfound virginity.
“I can’t believe you decided to stay,” Daphne said.
“I like the turret,” he said. “It suits me. Also, I got a great rate. They’re running a special.”
“They run specials all the time,” she said. “It’s gloomy, don’t you think?”
“The others are convinced it’s haunted,” he said.
“That’s a whole other story,” Daphne said. “In my culture, we don’t chase after ghosts. The dead better stay dead. But I’ll
tell you this, I had trouble sleeping while I was there. I kept dreaming of Felix and then, well, you know, that morning after
breakfast . . .”
“What was that about?” Leo asked. “What did you find?”
“This.” She held out her left hand. On her ring finger was a simple gold band. “His ring. I returned to my room and there
it was on the floor.”
“You said it might’ve fallen from your suitcase.”
“Forget what I said,” she stammered. “I couldn’t risk panicking Ayesha.”
Leo reached for his notebook and pen. “Tell me more.”
“He had my name engraved on it ahead of the wedding,” she explained. “It was meant to be a surprise. We’d found the receipt
on him, but never the ring. I figured it was lost in the debris of the accident. He collided with a truck . . .”
“My God, Daphne . . .”
She brought her hand to her heart. “I’m thrilled to have found it, but if I think about it too much, I might lose my mind.”
“Understood.”
She let out a breath and regained her composure. “I don’t think we’ll use that venue next year. Consider changing hotels if
you’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m good,” Leo said. “I plan to lock myself in the tower and get to work. I’ve got an idea for a novel.”
“Would it be a spicy romance between a dark and brooding horror writer and an enigmatic fantasy author?” she asked.
“No.”
“Too bad,” she said with a pout. “That’s the book I’d like to read.”
“So would I,” he admitted.
“May I be real with you for a second?”
Leo made a face. “Must you?”
She barreled on. “Obviously, I don’t know Jules on a personal level. Our paths hadn’t crossed before this. She’s famously
reclusive and only agrees to a handful of commitments. I thought she was going to turn us down and was shocked when she RSVP’d
right away. All this to say, I don’t know the girl, but I do know when a girl is in love. It was so obvious she’s into you.
I know you’re into her. And you seem to get along. You two were always sneaking off together. I’ve done my job as Cupid and gave
you the ideal setting for seduction. What more do you need, Leo? Directions to her vagina?”
“Sorry if I let you down.”
“Do better!” she retorted and picked up the happy hour menu. “Want to order fries?”
Off-duty Daphne was feisty. She wore faded jeans, a heap more jewelry, and a bit of gloss to highlight her rosy-brown lips.
They ordered fries.
“Seriously, what went wrong?” she asked. “I was so hopeful.”
Leo reached for the same tired excuse. “It’s more complicated than that.”
July had rejected him not only here in Key West but also the night they first met in Manhattan.
She walked away, closed the door, and didn’t look back.
She didn’t want him, then or now. No . .
. A part of him wasn’t willing to accept that.
July wanted him. The hunger was there. Their magnetic pull was undeniable, but there was nothing he could do about it if she didn’t want it, or at least as much as he did.
If she could walk away, deny it, she was a stronger person than he was.
Daphne shook her head, one of her long braids fell across her face. “Learn from my mistakes,” she said. “Time is a limited
currency. Don’t waste it.”
“How about you?” he asked. “Are you ready for something new?”
“Never.” Daphne gazed at the ring on her finger. “Felix was my one love. There won’t be another.”
“Perhaps the ring is a sign Felix wants you to move on,” he said gently.
“With all due respect to Felix, he doesn’t get to call the shots.”
“That’s fair, but what about kids? A family?”
“Those dreams died the night of the accident.”
“Won’t you feel lonely?” he asked.
“Loneliness doesn’t kill,” she said. “And work keeps me busy.”
That was the official motto of the week.
“Back to your book,” Daphne said. “What’s the big idea?”
“Key West and the Great Fire.”
“That’s fire!” she cried. “It’s time that Key West inspired a new generation of greats. If you’re serious about it, you should reconnect
with Dr. Flores. He’s the subject matter expert.”
“What do you mean if I’m serious?” he asked, offended. “I’m here for the week to do the research. I have a call with my editor in the morning.
This is happening, babe.”
“Then my job is done!” she declared with a flourish of a paper napkin.
The food arrived: fries and fried calamari. Daphne reached for the hot sauce. “This is nice. I’m glad we decided to hang out
today.”
“Me, too.”
“I’d love to have you over for dinner at the restaurant one night.”
He agreed to dinner. “Save me a seat at the table.”
“Awesome.”
“Daphne,” Leo said. “I’ve been thinking about this, and I don’t want us to be mere acquaintances.”
She drizzled hot sauce onto her fries. “What are you talking about? We’re cool.”
“I want more.”
Daphne froze. A crinkle appeared between her thin brows. “More than friends?”
Leo reclined in his seat and watched her squirm. “Yes.”
“Friends with benefits?” she asked, incredulous.
“Not that far,” he said. “Dial it back.”
“Just friends?”
“Good friends,” he said.
“Whew! You had me thinking of ways to let you down gently!” she said, laughing. “Sorry to tell you, handsome, but you’re not
my type.”
10:00 p.m.
Leo was still thinking about dreams that die when he got back to The Aurora. The night clerk greeted him. “Welcome back, boss!
So cool that y’all decided to stick around.”
“Thanks, man. Good night.”
The peaceful atmosphere of the suite was disturbing, considering this was the hangout spot over the weekend. Matty, Vicky,
Ayesha, and eventually, July, had flung themselves on the chairs, ottomans, and rugs, laughing and talking over each other
well into the night. However, it was the ideal setting for work. He wouldn’t leave Key West without making a dent in the project.
After a quick shower, he set up his word processor and got settled at the desk. Headphones on, he tried out a few narrative
styles to see which had legs. He decided on the voice of the arsonist and sharpened it, tapping into his bloodlust. It was
past midnight when he got it right.
12:25 a.m.
Leo slipped off his headphones, stood and stretched, moved over to the window and took in the garden view that had held July’s
attention two nights earlier. He searched for the bench at the far side of the pergola where he’d often spotted her. It had
prompted him to get her a bouquet of fresh cuts, which she pretended not to like. The delightful pergola was a ghostly structure
in the night, yet there in its shadow, amid the flower beds, ferns, and droopy palms, like a leaf curled unto itself, lay
July.