Chapter 10 There is No Try #3
“And your guy, Seat F. He made you feel safe?”
“He did,” she said softly. “Inexplicably.”
“We better find him, then.”
“We? You changed your mind about me helping you?”
“I meant I. There is no ‘we.’ I’ve never had a partner, and I’m not starting today.”
“Your dad was your partner, though, right?”
“In name only,” he corrected. “Closest thing I had to a real partner was my dog, Easy Rawlins.”
“Aww. What kind of dog?”
“Miniature pinscher. They’re Chihuahua-sized, but with Doberman aggression. Pure evil. She loved me, but tried to eat everyone she came across, including my sister. Easy died five years ago.” He paused. “Not for nothing, I’d rather death had claimed my sister.”
“Easy Rawlins? That’s the detective in those Walter Mosley mysteries, right? Denzel played him in Devil in a Blue Dress. Incredible performance.”
Wes nodded, emphatically. “Shit was spectacular.”
“Makes no sense, he didn’t win an Oscar.” She paused, pointedly. “Speaking of makeup and Denzel, he wore a full beat in Gladiator 2.”
He huffed out a short laugh. “Am I getting a Denzel salary for this commercial?”
“If only,” she scoffed. “Wait, it just hit me that you gave a female dog a male name.”
“I ended up calling her Daughter, anyway. Which became Dottie. Then, Ol’ Girl Dot. Sometimes she was Chonk Badonk. LeBronna James. Captain Clapback the Illmatic.” He sighed. “I miss that little terrorist.”
“Chonk Badonk’s looking down on you, I’m sure.”
“Believe me, she’s looking up.”
She burst out laughing. And so did he—his real laugh, the kind where his eyes disappeared. It was so endearing, so contagious. This was Wes Dane’s truest form. Light, amiable, and with a throaty-good chuckle that poured over her like sunlight, warming the parts of her that had gone cold.
It might’ve been one of her most favorite sounds, ever.
“This banter, Wes? This is friendship behavior.”
“Okay, we’re friends.” Wes threw up his hands. “Of course we’re friends. Fighting it is exhausting, and life’s too short. You still can’t come with me on missions, though.”
“I know, I know, you work alone.”
“Question. This isn’t any of my business, but what happens when I find him?”
“Not sure. What do you do when you meet a woman you like?”
“I’m the wrong one to ask,” he admitted. “I’m not a relationship guy. At all.”
This was interesting information. “No? Lifelong player?”
“No, it’s not like that. I’ve had long-term girlfriends. I even thought I’d get married, once. I mean, I haven’t had relationships lately. I’m just not interested. Too focused on getting my business off the ground. There’s no time.”
It occurred to Sasha that this was the excuse she always gave for not dating.
“Makes sense. God, I guess I don’t know what I’ll do when I’m reunited with Seat F. I haven’t thought that far. I’m trying to be chill about all this.”
“Yeah, because hiring a PI’s a famously chill move,” he teased.
“Hopefully, we’ll pick up where we left off, and dance into the sunset?
I don’t think it’s unreasonable or embarrassing to want that.
I’ve been alone forever. Why not be strategic about love, the same way I’m strategic about my career, where I live, everything?
We’ve just got one life. I don’t want to miss out on love. ”
“I respect you for being so proactive about it. I hope he turns out to be who you think he is. Truly.”
“Thank you, friend.”
With soft eyes, he nodded in the direction of her cuff. “I like it.”
Sasha looked down. Wes was the one person she didn’t have to explain this to. The only other person who knew what happened. “Yeeaaahhhh. Well, the scar was pretty bad. The stitches healed weirdly. This covers it up.”
“Do you ever take it off?”
“No.” Sasha stared at the bracelet for a long time, her eyes going cloudy.
Then she unclasped it, and turned her hand palm up.
The jagged railroad tracks zigzagging across her wrist were on display.
She wasn’t sure why she did this. But it felt cathartic.
He was the one person who knew the scar’s backstory. It was part of his story, too.
Wes let out a small exhale. His gaze scanned her scars, free of judgment and with full understanding, and then met her eyes.
“Can I?” he asked.
Sasha nodded. Gingerly, he placed his hand over her scar. “This is a war wound. Your strength is in this scar.”
“I’d like to think so,” she said with a shy smile. “I’m not quite there yet.”
“And the bracelet makes you look like Wonder Woman.”
She chuckled, grateful that he inserted some levity into the conversation. “I love your spin. I read somewhere that the key to a fulfilling life is to experience a thrill, even a small one, every day. This conversation has been a thrill.”
Wes mulled this over. “I think the key to an exciting life is to share your location with your wildest friend.”
“Ha! Why?”
“Because,” he started, with a mischievous expression, “it forces you to be interesting.”
“Challenge accepted,” she told him, pulling out her phone. She shared her location with Destiny, and then texted her, “I’m Watson-ing with my Sherlock. I’ll explain later.”