Cole, Page 5

  He couldn’t stop staring at her, and then introductions happened. The couple was Doris and William, sixty-year-old socialites having the time of their life. They loved living so close to the museums, nicest restaurants, and concert halls. They recited all that with a slight nasally sound in their voice, and then Jake came around with more champagne. Their inner hippies came out shortly after that. Their son disapproved of their lifestyle, Doris informed me. They were supposed to volunteer for the nursing home he ran. Their daughter more than shared their love of the scene. She was a third resident on their floor, often staying longer than they wanted when she was in between boyfriends, and her little Shih Tzu too. I didn’t know there was a dog policy, but based on how they suddenly grew hushed, I didn’t ask.

  Then Doris whispered loudly, “That’s all on the downlow, though. Be a dear, sweetheart. Mum’s the word. Hmmm?”

  I felt like I’d just agreed to be their drug dealer. The next introduction was Derek, who wasn’t just an IT guy, he was a computer genius. He created programs, and the “heads,” he explained with finger quotations, liked to meet at their offices downtown. He was a geek in all the best ways: wrinkled T-shirt, baggy jeans cropped too short at the ankles, and champagne in his favorite coffee mug, which said, Don’t Worry, I Won’t Byte.

  All the while, Sia kept Dawn occupied in the corner. Jake veered over at one point, and a dark look, filled with promise, passed between him and Sia. He ended up going back to open my wine. Somehow, a third bottle brought everything up another notch. Conversation flowed more easily. Laughter grew louder, and more frequent. Dawn was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement next to Derek, holding his arm, and Jake and Sia disappeared for a few moments. When they re-emerged, both flushed in the face, hair messed and lips swollen, Sia veered toward Doris and William. Jake joined Derek and Dawn, and I watched the three single residents in action. Jake seemed almost like a mentoring big brother to Derek, or maybe the cool brother Derek wanted to be. Dawn nearly beamed. As Sia predicted, she’d found her knitting soulmate, at long last.

  “The Age of Aquarius” blasted from the speakers, and instead of a full meal, Jake arranged the food as a snacking buffet.

  “Doris took over the music.” Sia collapsed on the couch next to me. “It’s going to be a Beatles and John Lennon night tonight. Betting you twenty bucks the old couple brings out a joint within the hour. I got a good whiff from William. He just smoked up.”

  “Here?”

  She waved down the hallway. “In the bathroom. He was coming out at the same time—” And she realized what she’d been about to say.

  I gave her a knowing grin. “I saw your entrance. Don’t even try to lie to me.”

  She groaned, but couldn’t hide her smile. “I must look silly.” She rolled her eyes. “Addison, I had no idea. I finally found my booty-call soulmate.”

  “Booty call?”

  “Yeah.” She stilled. One side of her mouth flattened. “What?”

  She was in love. At long last, her future husband. She was going to move in with him. Those were her normal responses, what I was used to hearing from her as every steamy affair got started. I shook my head. Calling a new guy a booty call wasn’t her usual approach.

  “Nothing.”

  “No. What? You had a look,” she pressed.

  “It’s just…” I glanced over at Jake. He was watching us—correction, he was watching Sia. I pointed at him. “I know that look. All your new boyfriends have it. It’s going to be hot, intense, and I won’t see you for a month or two until you break up.” I gave her a hard look. “That’s when it will get uncomfortable. I know how you are.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When you two break up, you won’t come here anymore. He’s my neighbor.”

  She waved that off. “Oh, phooey. That’s silly. I’ve been over to your place a ton and not run into him. It won’t be a problem.”

  But it would be. I could read the writing on the wall from half a mile away.

  “Addison.” She touched my arm. “I won’t let it affect you and me.”

  My hand went over hers. “Promise?”

  She squeezed my arm. “Promise. I need you, too. It’s not just you needing me. You’re my sanity in this crazy life I lead.”

  I didn’t believe her, but it meant a lot that she said so. “Thank you.”

  “Any time, best friend.”

  My arm rubbed against hers. Staring at the group, I couldn’t believe these were my neighbors. This felt weird, but it felt good at the same time. A year ago, I couldn’t remember to give Frankie water, and now I was sitting in someone else’s home at a gathering. I let out a sigh.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, then gestured to the group. “I thought I was going to die a year ago.”

  “Ah.” She got it. “You’ve come a long way.”

  For a moment, I couldn’t talk. My throat closed up. Then, Simon and Garfunkel filled the room, and Doris started swaying her hips. Her arms raised, and her hands began circling in time with the music. William bopped next to her, and Jake pulled Sia to the dance floor. Derek grabbed my hand, doing an impersonation of a chicken around me, and even Dawn moved her shoulders in her corner.

  For my first resident dinner, I’d say it was a success.

  Doris and William danced happily off to their floor. Dawn and Derek were both giggling, clutching each other for balance as they caught the elevator right behind them. So it was Jake, Sia, and myself remaining.

  I turned around. Nope. The two of them were already in the bedroom.

  “So,” I called. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  I waited.

  Nothing.

  “Sia?” I cleared my throat. “My best friend, who came with me as my date tonight?”

  Soft laughter and a groan was my answer.

  “Okay then.” I hit the button for the elevator. I had a bit of a wait, as it had to drop both Derek and Dawn off before coming back up for me. “I’ll just, uh, turn in.”

  A shoe hit the floor. A burst of giggling sounded, and then I heard footsteps rushing down the hall to me. The swishing of Sia’s dress assured she was clothed—I didn’t need to brace myself for a vision of her underwear or straight-up breasts. When she appeared, her hair was a mess and her lipstick faded.

  “Addison.” She hurried the rest of the way, her cheeks flushed and glowing. A good whiff of Merlot made my nose twitch when she flung her arms around me. “I love you, baby.” She pulled back, then smacked my cheek with her lips. “I’m staying with Jake for the night.”

  “Lunch tomorrow?”

  “Oh yeah. I’ll pick you up. We can walk to Gianni’s together.”

  “Okay.” I hugged her as the elevator pinged its arrival. “Have a good night. Use protection.”

  “I will.” She leaned in close, giving me another hug as the doors opened behind me. “Thank you so much for being the bestest friend ever. Love you, honey bunches.” Her breath tickled my neck, and then she was off, headed back to the bedroom.

  I stepped into the elevator, and after putting in my code, my finger paused over the button for three. I remembered I hadn’t gotten my mail that day. I could ask Ken to bring it up, but I hit the lobby button.

  I had my mail in hand, and I was about to return to the lobby when I heard the noises. A door burst open, not from the front lobby where I now stood, but behind me somewhere. My feet moved first. I didn’t think as I headed back to the mail area. That back elevator was close by, and as I rounded the exercise room, I saw the men.

  Five of them. All tall. They weren’t talking. They reminded me of the men from the restaurant, their hard jawlines set in stone. They were clearly no-nonsense, and as one moved aside, his jacket opened, and I saw a gun in a holster under his arm.

  The back elevator opened, and two of the men rushed toward it. I held my breath.

  My feet quickened. I clutched my mail in a tight grip, almost squishing it into a
ball.

  “Clear,” one of the men announced.

  Someone else spoke on the other side of the man I could see. They filed one by one into the elevator, leaving only the one with his back to me. He glanced behind him before he joined them, saying the word, “Clea—” But as he saw me, the word died in his throat.

  I wanted to see.

  The elevator was closing.

  I hurried up. Who were they?

  The man stepped inside. He moved, trying to block me, but I saw their faces.

  It was the men from the restaurant. My feet planted, and my body teetered forward before finding balance again. I could only stare.

  There was the leader. He stood against the back wall, holding up another man by the arm.

  I was locked in, staring back at Sia’s mystery man. I couldn’t help but note the irony. She’d given up on him—and was now probably writhing underneath my neighbor—just as he appeared.

  Once again, he was dressed as the others—black jackets, black shirts, and slacks—but he was different. I’d never heard him speak, but I knew he was the alpha. He was strong, authoritarian, and somehow I knew he was intelligent. A darkness began swirling in me, filling me up. I didn’t know where it came from, and I couldn’t make sense of it, but it was addicting. My blood began to buzz, and my heart picked up its pace. I couldn’t look away. His eyes narrowed, and he stared right back at me as the doors started to close.

  I moved forward again. I wanted to see more. Just before the doors closed, I glanced down and saw the pool of blood at his feet.

  The doors closed. I stepped back to watch.

  The elevator stopped on the floor above Jake’s.

  Mrs. Sailer,

  I enjoyed your email, and yes, we’d love to have you back on the team. Your column position was filled last year, so unfortunately, we’ll have to bring you in on an assignment-based capacity until more openings occur. Please send me any ideas you have, and we can proceed from there. I’m excited to get in touch and talk further.

  Sincerely,

  Tina Gais

  Editor-in-Chief

  Onlooker Online Magazine

  I read that email once, then again, and a third time. I’d received it this morning, and I was trying to create a list of ideas, but found myself going back to read it all over again. There was no mention of Liam’s death, what I’d been through, or why they’d had to fill my position. Yep. No word on how they’d promised I could take all the time I needed to mourn. No one could replace me, and they were thinking of me always. No mention of any of the supportive messages they’d sent me when I let them know I needed more time. Being a relationship advice columnist when the love of my life had just died hadn’t been one of those things I could bounce back into.

  My gaze shifted from the email to my list of ideas. So far I had a number one…and nothing else. That blank number one had taken a whole hour to figure out. I felt it was promising. I rolled my eyes. Who was I kidding? I still wasn’t there. My column was taken. I had to send back new ideas, not my old ones. No more stories on why Mr. Settle-For-You would never compare to Mr. Perfect-For-You. I was such a sap.

  I hunched back over the computer and typed:

  Ten things to do if your husband dies.

  #1. Move out of your shared house. It saves time on being haunted.

  #2. Hide the booze from others. You’ll want it on those nights when everyone leaves you alone, and that happens faster than you think.

  #3. Smile. They may be perfect strangers, but they don’t like to be reminded they are.

  #4. Get plastered every night so you don’t play your husband’s death over and over again in your head. This ties back to #1.

  #5. ---------------

  I shoved back from the computer. I couldn’t send that. Going into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror. That person staring back, she was most definitely a downer. Sad eyes. Bags under those same dark eyes. Hair that used to shine in the sunlight—that was what Liam had said. It was a sandy-color blond that fell past my shoulders. It looked like a limp mop now. I shook my head, cleared my thoughts. Yes, whoever was staring back at me wasn’t me. She was grieving, but me, I was trying to live again.

  Sia had said to try to get back to work. That would help. This morning was my first real try at it.

  It was a big-time fail.

  I was supposed to meet Sia for lunch at Gianni’s, and instead of us walking together, I’d gotten a message from her earlier just to meet her there. That meant I had three hours to kill before walking down the block, and writing had been supposed to fill that time.

  I eyed my sneakers and headphones. I’d been avoiding Dawn in the gym, but she was friendlier lately. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I considered… I could do a hard workout and still be done with stretching and even cool down before she entered the elevator. It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid Dawn. I just didn’t want to push my luck with her. Sia was her new bestie, or so she thought, and I didn’t want to be pulled into the middle of that either—just like Sia and Jake and whatever was going to happen with them.

  I grunted. Even Sia was better at living my new life than me, and thinking about that, my decision was made.

  Changing clothes, I grabbed my sneakers and laced them up. My headphones in one hand and my phone in the other, I headed downstairs. The doors slid open at the lobby, and I stepped out, turning toward the door to the back area.

  “You’re going for a workout, Miss Addison?”

  “Addison, Ken.” He still refused. “Just Addison.”

  Ken stepped out of his office and chuckled, his wrinkled face immediately rounding. His cheeks colored, and he pulled his hat off, tucking it against his chest. “Might you feel up for a run today, Addison?”

  My name came out so reluctantly. I could imagine his teeth grinding together. Wait. What did he say? A run? “Is the gym closed?” I usually used the elliptical, then the treadmill for my cool down.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Ken,” I warned.

  “No, Addison.” His gaze shifted to my left, over my shoulder. “Our running track’s nicely heated, though, if you were to feel up for a real run today.”

  “I…”

  He turned back into his office, and I trailed off. That was different. I turned, and with a last glance over my shoulder at him, I pushed open the door. I paused on the other side. My hands found my hips and rested there, but then I shrugged. He wanted me to run on the track. Well, I liked Ken. I figured he said it for a reason.

  Jake said he’d used the running track a few times, and it was long and winding. It dipped down next to the basement parking lot and back up to go along the side of the building before it circled back inside.

  I opened the door to the track and had to pause again. Jake never mentioned that the track was literally a clear tube. It had two lanes, and beyond the tube I could see the gardens that decorated the pool area. Ken was right. I was beginning to feel more and more like a run.

  I was popping my headphones in after a quick stretch when I heard soft footsteps on the track—the sound of someone running. They were coming in quick and strong, and then they rounded the last turn, coming right for me. The runner’s head was bent, his hood pulled low. I was off to the side, so when he zoomed past me, I couldn’t quite see who it was. It wasn’t Jake, or I didn’t think it was. He was probably at work, and the guy was taller than Derek. I doubted it was William. Maybe the mysterious fourth-floor resident?

  Then the image from last night flashed in my head: Mr. Gorgeous holding his comrade up, pool of blood on the floor. Could it be?