Craving Perfect (20 page)

I walked through the thinning crowd, looking for Mario. Out on the patio, I stopped briefly to glance at the empty table by the gardenia and bougainvillea vines next to the fountain. The tiny white lights across the ceiling still twinkled just as I remembered. On the way toward the kitchen, I glanced inside the bar. Mario was talking to the bartender while he dried martini glasses with a cloth.

Walking toward him, I felt myself smile, a real one this time.

“Miss Collins…” Mario lifted from the bar stool.

His accent made my chest tighten, even though I’d only talked to him once in my whole life.

“I think we had a successful night, eh?” He reached for my hand, just as he’d done the night I first met him. Like a sandwich, he placed my hand between his warm ones.

“Please…call me Callie,” I said, even though some strange part of me wished he’d see me for who I really was—Grace Mills, just a few sizes bigger and more comfortable shoes. “It was a very busy night. The shelter will be pleased, thanks to your generosity.”

“Yes, but the crowds came because of you.” He squeezed my hand.

“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure they came because your food is absolutely the best in the whole state.”

Mario leaned closer and I smelled jalapenos and garlic on his apron.

The spices made me swoon. And reminded me more of Carlos. Oddly, I felt my eyes tear.

Mario didn’t release my hand. Instead, he leaned closer, so that he had to whisper. “In all the years we’ve been doing this, this is the first year we’ve talked.” His eyes studied me. “You know, you’re not what I expected, Callie.”

I fought back a lump in my throat. Then I flashed a smile. “Really? And what did you expect?” I felt silly for asking such a loaded question, but my chest tugged for an answer.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re very different in person. On camera, very sure of yourself.” He paused. “In person, you’re much…softer.”

I laughed. Coming from Mario, at least I knew it was sincere.

“Well, thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“That’s a compliment, believe me.” Mario released my hand. “I’m an old man who talks too much. I better let you go.”

He motioned forward and walked me to the front door.

I stopped before reaching for the door. “There is one more thing I wanted to ask…” I began. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“
Sí?
”

“I think I may know your nephew, Carlos.” I swallowed.

“Carlos? Yes, Carlos is my nephew.” Pride sparkled in his eyes.

“Well, I see him at the gym, Goldie’s Gym.” I paused, suddenly unsure what more I could say and wishing that I hadn’t said anything at all. It was just that looking back at his face—the kindness in his eyes, the curve of his lips—I saw Carlos in his expression, in the way he spoke, even in the way he looked at me. I swallowed. “Anyway, he’s a real nice guy. Very kind. I just wanted you to know.”

Mario’s face brightened, the corners of his eyes crinkling like tissue paper. “Yes, Carlos is a good
hombre
. A real good guy, you would say. He’s very smart, too.” His round chest puffed over his belt buckle.

“You must be so proud that he’s in law school.”

Mario’s eyes narrowed, confused. “Carlos isn’t in law school.”

My eyes widened. “He’s not?”

He shook his head. “I wish he’d do something like that.”

I began to stammer.
Are you sure
? I wanted to ask him. “I mean, I thought he was. He said—I thought. I must have misunderstood.”

Mario sighed. “He’s too busy with amateur fighting these days to care about school. Says he wants to turn professional.” I could tell from his expression that Mario was not pleased. “Make lots of money.”

“No. Really?” I pretended not to know.

“All he will do is get more broken bones.”

I nodded, remembering his bruises, hating to think that there’d be more of them.

“Anyway, I will tell him you asked about him.”

My chest tightened. “Yes. Thank you. That would be nice.”

Mario smiled and then held the door. “Goodnight, Miss Callie.”

“Goodnight, Mario. And thanks again. Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Come back anytime. You’re always welcome here.”

My eyes turned blurry as I walked through the opened door, thankful for the dim lighting.

Head lowered, I walked toward the parking lot, looking through cloudy eyes for my old yellow Volkswagen but finding instead my shiny convertible. It glistened underneath a street light. I pointed the key fob and heard the gentle
click
of the door lock.

“Callie? It’s about time,” said a voice inside the parked car next to mine.

My arm froze in mid-air, along with every other muscle in my body. Even the tears behind my eyes stopped building.

Then the door opened, and a man climbed out of the driver’s seat. His red car gleamed underneath the streetlight.

“Max?” I blinked. “You scared me.”
Make that you totally creeped me out.
Other than our two cars, only a handful more remained in the parking lot.

Max chuckled and leaned against the hood of my car, blocking my path to the door.

“What are you doing here?”

His arms spread. “Waiting for you.” His words slurred.

I leaned forward and sniffed. “Have you been drinking?”

His eyes widened. “Haven’t you?”

My arm finally dropped to my side. I clutched my keys. “Why didn’t you come inside?” My hands reached for my shoulders, rubbing them. The air had turned uncharacteristically cool and damp. “You could have gotten something to eat.”

“I did,” he snapped. “But you were busy. Dancing with half the bar.”

My nostrils flared. “It was a charity benefit, Max. It was important that people had fun.”

He lifted off the hood and approached me, his footsteps crunching in the gravel. I could smell tequila in his breath.

Instinctively, I stepped back.

Despite my heels, Max towered over me, confident. Too confident. He seemed pleased that he made me uncomfortable.

He grabbed my arm. My first reaction was to pull away.

But he pulled me closer. Even though it was dark, the whites of his eyes bored into mine. Before I could complain, his head lowered and his tongue invaded my mouth. He tasted like cigarettes.

I pushed away with both hands but his other hand gripped the back of my head, each finger twisting in my hair, his fingertips pressing against my scalp. “Max, stop!” My words gurgled.

He didn’t let go, breathing heavy, and continued to cover my mouth with his. His other hand traveled down my neck, reaching inside my blouse.

Nausea built in my throat.

Max’s fingers were like ice.

I squirmed, trying to break free, but he only gripped tighter. Then, I remembered my car keys. One of the keys pressed against my thumb.

It all happened so fast.

“I said stop!”

Max’s lips moved to the side of my throat.

I jammed my key into his shoulder

He jumped back, clutching his arm. “Shit, Callie! Why’d you do that?”

I rubbed my arm where his fingers squeezed like a vise.

He glared at me. “What is wrong with you?”

“Me?” My tone matched his. “What’s wrong with you?”

He shook his head, confused. “It never bothered you before. You always liked it rough.”

I stared back at him, speechless.

But then his scowl morphed into a smile, as if he was just being playful.

It felt like a nightmare. And didn’t change the anger and confusion I felt.

“Everything okay here?” The voice behind me sliced through the darkness and I spun around, more confused than ever.

“Carlos?” My eyes dropped to his fists. They were clenched and ready.

Mario stood behind him, his chef apron glowing white against the dark. On his other side, two of his cousins stood like links in a chain.

“Oh, great,” Max snarled. “It’s Towel Boy.”

I flashed Max an angry look. Frankly, I was surprised he recognized Carlos.

“Come to the rescue,
amigo?
” Max took a step toward Carlos, challenging him.

Carlos bristled. But he didn’t budge.

“What?” Max yelled. “You think you can box your way out of this?”

Carlos stayed silent.

“Come on,” Max chided him, waving his fingers. “I’ll go a round with you. Let’s see what you got.”

Carlos stepped closer. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Stop!” I stepped between them, my arms extended. I looked from Max to Carlos as my heart thumped overtime. Of the two, Carlos was the most unreadable but judging from the way his hands clenched, I knew that he was angry. And lethal.

“No, Carlos. Don’t.” My arms began to shake. The bitter taste of Max’s tongue was still fresh in my mouth, and then a sharp pain pierced across my forehead. Dizzy, I turned to him. “Please, he’s not worth it.”

I gasped, swallowing back the words.

But it was too late.

I could hear Max’s ragged breath through his teeth. “What? You’re defending
him?”

I stood speechless. I couldn’t answer him.

A gravelly chuckle rumbled in Max’s chest, slowly at first before getting louder. It echoed, bouncing between us. “Okay,” he sneered. “I got it. I can take a hint.” The whites of his teeth flashed. It was a grin but there was enough anger behind his smile to make me shudder. I was glad to be surrounded by Carlos and his family.

With heavy footsteps, Max sauntered back to his car as if he had all the time in the world. Still chuckling and shaking his head, he opened the door, climbed inside, and slammed it closed.

I jumped at the noise.

Through his opened window, his chuckle faded and he said, “This ain’t over.”

Edging closer to Carlos and his cousins, I stayed silent.

We watched as Max peeled out of the parking lot. Everyone except Carlos shielded their eyes from the spinning dust before Max finally reached the street. His tires screeched all the way to the red stoplight, but he didn’t stop. He sped straight through the empty intersection. I watched till his rear lights faded into the darkness.

Finally able to breathe again, I turned to Carlos. He was the only one standing in the parking lot. Mario and the others had already returned to the restaurant. “I am so sorry, Carlos.” My voice sounded out of place in the quiet parking lot. “I’m sorry about the way Max talked to you.”

His lips sputtered as if he could care less. “Are you all right?” His eyes still focused on the street, like he half hoped Max would return.

I licked dust from my lips as my heartbeat slowed. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” The chalky dust helped to disguise the taste of Max in my mouth.

“Was that your boyfriend?” Carlos finally lowered his gaze to mine.

“Fiancé.”

Carlos’s head tilted. I knew him well enough to be sure that he thought I was crazy.

“Was,” I added quickly, as if that made a difference.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

I nodded, even though inside I was anything but right. My stomach still churned from the shock of what had happened.

“Do you need a ride home?”

Yes! Please!
I swallowed. “No, I’ve got my car.” I nodded behind me. “But, thank you anyway.”

Without a word, he followed me the few steps to my car, his hands stuffed in his front pockets. My chest tightened when I remembered his hand in mine in this very parking lot, another life ago.

“Okay, then.” He reached for the handle and pulled back the door while I climbed inside.

“Okay, then.” I slipped into the seat. Part of me wanted to stay with him, but what would I say? He’d only think I was crazier than he already did. My eyes lingered on his face, wondering if there was any part of me that he recognized.

“Your family is like the cedar tree,” I said, taking a chance.

“What?” His chin pulled back.

“Protective. Sacred. Like a tree. Isn’t that what the Cherokee believe?”

He chuckled more out of surprise than humor. “And how would you know anything about old Cherokee Indian legends?”

“Just something that somebody told me once. “

“Who?” He sounded intrigued.

I swallowed. What could I say? “I…I forget,” I stammered. “It’s been a while.”

My breathing hitched when he lowered himself over my window, one arm draped against the door. Was he starting to remember? Did he see something in my eyes? Hear something familiar in my voice?

“Don’t forget to lock.” He shut my door.

My body sank lower into the seat. I nodded weakly through the glass as a lump grew in my throat. I started the car and rolled down the window. “Hey, why didn’t you go to law school?”

His chin pulled back again with more surprise.

“Law school. Why didn’t you go?”

His eyes narrowed. “And how would you know about that too?” His tone changed from intrigue to downright suspicion.

My shoulders shrugged. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
Just thought I’d take a chance.

At first, he shook his head. Then he surprised me and said, “Try me.”

I looked up at him, debating whether to tell him. The conversation fast-forwarded in my mind, and in it I sounded certifiable. “Your uncle mentioned it earlier,” I lied, just as another sharp pain stretched across my forehead. I reached for my temple, massaging it quickly.

“Are you sure you can drive? You don’t look so good.”

I nodded, even as I waited for the latest wave of pain to pass. The headaches had become more frequent. I just needed an aspirin. And perhaps even a doctor to tell me why my head ached so much. Was I still suffering from a treadmill side-effect? Shouldn’t they have faded by now? “Maybe we’ll talk some other time?”

Carlos nodded. “See you around the gym.”

“The gym.” My throat turned dryer. That didn’t sound too encouraging. But I supposed it was better than nothing. “Sure.”

Carlos tapped on the roof, an obvious cue for me to take off. Then he backed away.

“Bye, Carlos.”

“Later.” He waved.

I drove forward across the parking lot, careful not to cover him in a wake of dust. With his hands back inside his pockets, Carlos watched my car until I reached the street. As I sat at the red light on Scottsdale Road, he walked across the parking lot and faded into the dark.