Just a Little Insecurity, Page 2

  “Well,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. “Thank you. Special occasion or not, I don’t care; I’m just glad I finally get to spend some time with you.”

  “Well, then,” he said, taking the flowers from me. “Let’s get these in water and get the night started—”

  “Well, there’s a major kink in the plan,” I said, following him into the kitchen.

  I stopped at the cupboard and retrieved a vase, passing it to him at the sink. He started to fill the glass jar and looked back at me.

  “What’s the kink?”

  “Well,” I said, biting my lip. “Before… when you were supposed to come last week… Matt was going to make us dinner.”

  “Okay?”

  “And he kinda threw in the towel on that dream, remember?” I said, still irked that there was probably more to the story than I really knew. Luke nodded so I continued, “He’s not here tonight. He said he had plans with Kara, but God only knows what that really means. He could be off doing anything—”

  “Hey,” he said, putting the vase aside on the counter. “I know you’re worried about the whole Matt situation, but let’s not let that ruin our evening, okay? These date nights are going to come few and far between for the next couple of months, so let’s make the most of them while we can.” I twisted my lips, wanting to make an argument and further my complaints about Matt and his supposed infidelity, but Luke dropped his head. “Julie.”

  “Fine,” I said, dropping my shoulders in defeat. “But what about dinner?”

  “Let’s go out—”

  “I don’t want to go out,” I said, pouting my lower lip. I didn’t want to be controlling or difficult, and I hoped that I hadn’t sounded like a child. But what I really wanted was some time with him… alone.

  “We can order something,” he said. “Or make dinner ourselves—”

  “Believe me when I tell you that you don’t want me attempting the domestic stuff. Not unless you want a pow-wow with some of your buddies from the Oakland Fire Deparment.”

  “That bad, huh?” he asked, not hiding his amusement for a second.

  “You don’t wanna know,” I said. “That’s Matt’s area of expertise.”

  A hint of a smirk crossed Luke’s face as he glanced around the kitchen. He seemed to be deep in thought, heavily contemplating something.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “No laughing,” he said, pointing a finger in my face. “But I can remedy this situation.”

  “Take out?” I asked, heading for a drawer of menus that Charlie kept hidden beneath old phone books and junk mail.

  “You take a seat,” Luke said, guiding me to the barstool at the center island. “I’ll handle dinner.”

  I watched as he headed for the refrigerator, far too confident in whatever he was about to do.

  “You’re making dinner?”

  “I’ve lived on my own for six years, Jules,” he said, pulling fresh vegetables from the bottom drawer. “And despite what your uncle lets you believe, cops don’t survive on doughnuts alone.” I took a deep breath and nodded, somewhat amused to watch what was about to unfold. “Have some faith, kid,” he said, turning back. “I promise; I’m as good in the kitchen as I am a target shooting.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I snickered, trying to hide the humor in my voice. “Now I have faith—”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “It’s just now I know that one of us will end up dead or missing a toe by the end of the night, Trigger.”

  “God, you make one mistake,” he muttered under his breath. He turned his back and chopped the vegetables on the opposite counter.

  Thirty minutes later, dinner was in the oven—Luke’s on-the-fly meatloaf recipe—baking and steaming at 400 degrees. In the meantime, I helped him wash the dishes he’d dirtied during dinner prep. It was a quiet evening, not much said and not much to say. It was just as clear to me as it was to him that we were just happy to get to spend some time together—no matter how quiet or intimate.

  When the dishes were done, Luke excused himself to retrieve something from the front hall—he said he needed to check his phone, but the glimmer in his eye told me he was lying. He returned a few seconds later with a small gift in hand.

  “I figured we’d go ahead and get this part of the evening out of the way while dinner’s in the oven,” he said, handing me the box. I jumped up on the counter, my feet dangling in the air, and fingered the bow on top of the box. “Open it.”

  I removed the paper, piece by piece, taking my time so that I could sneak a few glances at Luke while he watched.

  When I lifted the lid, my heart fell from my chest. Inside the box, a silver necklace shimmered in the light. The long, thin chain held a small pendant, a simple skeleton key no longer than a few inches, diamond studded and simply breathtaking.

  I pulled the necklace from the box, drawing it closer to my face to get a better look. Now, I didn’t know a lot about jewelry, nor had I ever been much for accessorizing, but something told me that Luke had gone above and beyond—emotionally and financially—to find this gift.

  “Luke,” I said, knowing there was no way I could keep my tears from cutting loose. “It’s beautiful. Why… why did you….?” I replaced my simple smirk with a genuine smile. “Thank you. I love it.”

  “I’m glad—”

  “Let me guess,” I said, running my finger across the pendant. “The key to your heart?”

  “Not quite,” he said, taking it from my hands. “More like a way to keep me close to your heart.” I smiled and nodded. “Do you want to try it on?”

  “Please,” I said, suddenly bringing my hand up to my neck. Of course I wanted to try it on. But I was already wearing a necklace, one I’d fashioned out of an old chain and a deadbolt key I’d dug out of Derek’s yard next door. I grasped the old key in my fingers and held it tight, watching the expression on Luke’s face turn from happy to… something else. Something unhappier, but not sadness.

  Something a little twisted, something mixed with a touch of anger.

  Something like… jealousy.

  And suddenly his explanation didn’t seem so innocent. A way to keep me close to your heart.

  Him… and not Derek.

  He cleared his throat and bit back a snide remark. I know, because I’d gotten really good at recognizing his change of demeanor right before he said something rude. He’d just about done it then, but something kept him from it.

  “I know you’re holding on to that thinking he’ll come back,” Luke finally said, and not as gentle as he normally would. “But he’s gone, Julie.”

  “I know,” I said, hoping he’d understand that I didn’t need the reminder.

  “Maybe it’s time for you to let this one go,” he said, taking my hand in his and pulling it from the grasp on Derek’s key. When I saw that he wasn’t going to let up, I nodded. I jumped down off the counter, standing tall in front of Luke, and turned my back to him. He stepped forward and the full length of his body brushed lightly across the back of mine, sending a wave of heat soaring through my veins as his fingers brushed my skin. He shifted my hair to one side, unclasping the old, dingy necklace, and replaced it with his new, diamond-studded pendant. He took my shoulders and gently turned me to meet his stare.

  “There,” he said, running a finger across the new key. “That’s better.”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding once.

  “Are you sure you like it?”

  I looked down at the small piece of jewelry hanging from my neck and nodded again.

  And though it was a beautiful, thoughtful—probably very expensive—gift from the man I loved… I felt nothing for the key around my neck. The key he’d removed was the one that actually meant something, the one that represented the friendship I’d loved and lost.

  I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. The necklace was great, it truly was. But his gift felt less like a grand gesture of love, and more like a way to remove every last remnant of Dere
k’s time in Oakland.

  “It’s perfect,” I said, swallowing hard. “I love it.”

  “And I love you,” he said, finally pressing a warm kiss to my lips.

  And for the first time since we’d met, I felt disconnected from his touch. Because after we parted lips and I rested my head on his shoulder, I watched as he subtly dropped Derek’s key into the garbage can behind us.

  And it felt like a dagger through my heart.

  Chapter Three

  Monday, February 18

  “Where are you off to?” I asked, looking up from my homework as I sat at the coffee table in the living room.

  Matt zipped his jacket and headed for the front door. “Work.”

  I tapped my pencil on the table and studied him. “At the bistro?”

  “Where else?” he asked, obviously irritated. “Can I go now?”

  “Just a quick question,” I asked, biting on the end of the pencil. “If you’ve given up your dream of someday owning your own restaurant, why are you still working at the bistro? Why not find another job?”

  Matt scrunched his brow. “I don’t know, Julie,” he said. “Because I’m good at what I do. I have job security. My co-workers respect me, my boss praises me. It’s easy. Now,” he said, motioning toward the door. “Can I go?”

  “Go,” I said, throwing the pencil down on the table and dropping my head back on the couch. When Matt disappeared, I tucked my books back into my bag and set it aside. I fumbled with my phone for a bit; it crossed my mind several times to text Luke, but I reminded myself each time that there wasn’t much I had to say to him. Whether he meant to or not, he’d changed the dynamic of our relationship with nothing more than a simple gift, and I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I wanted to love the gesture, but all I could muster was resentment.

  It’d been well over a week since he’d come by with the necklace. And after he put it around my neck—throwing Derek’s out without a moment’s hesitation—the rest of the evening was quiet. We ate in silence, only talking for a few minutes about how well Luke’s meatloaf turned out. And since that night, our conversations consisted mainly of five minute phone calls and text messages.

  I tossed the phone back in my bag and headed for the stairs, only taking the first two. I pressed my fingers to my lips and whistled up the staircase. The faint sound of scratching paws grew louder as Elvis rounded the corner and stood panting on the second floor landing.

  “Come on,” I said, clapping my hands. He flew down the stairs, nearly knocking me down as he reached the first floor. I ruffled the hair on his head and scratched his ears. “You wanna go for a walk?”

  He let out a loud bark and jumped up to lick my face.

  After Derek left in December, I couldn’t stand the thought of Elvis wasting away at a shelter. Since Oakland only had one animal rescue center in town, I imagined it wouldn’t be hard to track the dog down. Sure enough, he was right there waiting for adoption the day I showed up. Convincing Uncle Charlie to let me bring him home wasn’t easy, but I played a few sympathy cards—shame on me, I know—and finally talked him into welcoming Derek’s former furry friend into our home.

  Elvis and I set out on an afternoon stroll.

  We turned through the quiet Oakland streets and headed toward the old historic district.

  Once we reached the center of town, the olds shops in the area were within site—including Grace and Lonnie’s flower shop. We walked the block, stopping to look in the windows at the antiques and vintage clothing. We spent the better part of an hour moseying down the streets of Oakland. And as I turned to head home, the site of Luke’s patrol car caught my eye. It was parked in front of the flower shop, but it hadn’t been there when we came into the district. From across the way, I could see him inside the shop, leaning on the counter and talking and laughing with someone—I couldn’t tell who—behind the register.

  He was happy. And in that moment, so was I. For the first time since he’d reconnected with his father, it appeared as if they were finally letting go of the past.

  Wanting to get his attention without crossing the street—years of living with my father (and now Charlie) warned me against jaywalking—I pulled out my cell and called Luke.

  He answered almost instantly.

  “Julie,” he said, sounding as though he’d purposely stressed my name for the other person’s benefit. He held a finger to his lips to quiet them. “Hey. Listen, I can’t talk right now—”

  “Oh, I just wanted to say hi. I saw your car—”

  “Listen, can I call you later?” he asked hurriedly. “I’m just swinging by the station to talk to Charlie—”

  “You’re at the station now?” I asked, still watching him in the shop.

  “Yes—”

  “Right, okay,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “I guess I’ll just talk to you later, then—”

  But I was interrupted by the sound of him disconnecting our call.

  I watched as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. He checked his watch, said something to the flower store clerk—Grace or Lonnie, I couldn’t tell—and with a wave, headed for the door.

  I pulled Elvis’ leash and hurried him around the corner and out of sight. I peered around the building and watched as Luke got into his patrol car, started the engine, and pulled away.

  I leaned back against the brick, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes.

  What reason could Luke possibly have to lie to me?

  Sure, I’d been a little upset when he blew me off over Christmas, but I understood how much he needed that time with his family. And I thought it was sweet that he’d drop by the shop to visit them. I found it incredibly strange that he thought he had to lie about where he was.

  With one more deep breath, I pushed myself off the wall and rounded the corner once again.

  But it wasn’t Luke in the flower shop window that caught my eye this time. It was a girl—a woman... a beautiful woman—someone I’d never seen here in Oakland before. And with her auburn curls falling gracefully down her shoulders, she moved from behind the counter to the store entrance. With a turn of the deadbolt, and a flip of the “out to lunch” sign, she glanced up and met my stare.

  We watched each other for a few long seconds before she reached up and pulled the shade down, masking herself behind the blind. With each pounding beat of my heart, I fought to restrain tears.

  Why would he lie to me? Better yet, who was she, and what business did Luke have visiting her?

  Elvis licked my hand, reminding me that I wasn’t alone.

  I gave him a playful tease on the head and tried to disguise the hurt in my eyes. Just in case dogs really had that uncanny sense for detecting human emotion, I had to put on a smile. Because I didn’t want anyone—not even Elvis—to know the truth. I couldn’t fathom someone else knowing that Luke’s little lie didn’t seem so little anymore.

  And that his one little lie… well, it broke my heart.

  Thursday, February 21

  I tapped my pencil against the table for the hundredth time.

  I couldn’t concentrate on my homework. Three days after he’d blatantly lied to me, I still hadn’t heard from Luke. No text. No call. No visit. Nothing.

  And I thought for sure that I’d hear from him today of all days, because today was the day that Hannah Jones-Milton learned her fate in court. It’d been long overdue, trial delay after delay, but the day had finally come.

  And I should’ve been there; Luke too.

  There should’ve been a trial, a jury, a sentencing… the whole shebang. What she’d done to Luke shouldn’t have earned her any bargaining rights. Hannah was guilty; I knew it, Luke knew it, the whole town of Oakland knew it. But to avoid the timeliness and cost of trial, the case was settled without ever reaching the judge. The prosecutor offered her the chance to avoid court by admitting guilt to a lesser charge. She escaped the original charges and her rightful sentence; but she was behind bars nonetheless.

  So, I
wasn’t needed to testify.

  Neither was Luke.

  And neither was Derek…. Every part of me had hoped that the case would’ve gone to trial; a trial would’ve guaranteed Derek’s return.

  So, it was a day of frustrations.

  And if he would’ve called, I would’ve asked Luke how he felt about Hannah getting a shorter sentence—25 years for attempted murder—but he’d been dodging my calls left and right.

  “Hey, I thought that was you sitting over here all alone,” a familiar voice said behind me. I turned to meet Kara’s smile as she approached and slid into the seat across from mine. “Do you have a second? I wanted to ask you about something.”

  Her eyes saddened, but I didn’t want to let on that I understood her pain. Well, I thought I understood. From the circles under her eyes to the wrinkles around her lips, it appeared that Kara was stressed. Did she know that Matt had been lying through his teeth?

  “Sure,” I said, dropping my pencil. The sound of it hitting the table echoed through the shelves of Oakland’s Public Library. “What’s up?”

  “Okay,” she said, drawing in a large breath. “If you knew something was going on with Matt… something… bad… you’d tell me, right?” She gnawed on her lower lip and then dropped her head.

  “Um,” I barely managed a whisper. “Has he said something?”

  “No,” she said, tears flooding her eyes. “It’s nothing he’s said. It’s just the way he’s acting. He never has time to see me anymore. He’s always rushing to get out of school. When he says he’s working, he’s never at the bistro. And then you seemed too surprised to see me at Frank’s a couple weeks ago. And I remembered you saying… maybe you thought… that Matt and I were together.”

  “I did,” I said, swallowing hard. “But that was just an assumption—”

  “He told you he was with me, didn’t he?”

  Her chest rose with heavy breaths. She posed the question, but I wasn’t entirely sure she really wanted to hear the truth. But I had no intention of lying to a friend just to cover Matt’s tracks. Regardless of what Luke thought, Kara deserved to know that her boyfriend was being less than honest.