Down 'N' Derby (16 page)

             
“What are you doing, barring the door?” She giggled at me. 

             
It was the same giggle that I heard when I reached her ribs with my lips and she knew it.  Here I was trying to hold on to a shred of sanity and she took me down with a noise.  But she was my undoing and I loved every second of it. 

             
“Screw it,” I murmured to myself.  I stalked the distance between us and stopped only to hoist her over my shoulder.  And somewhere between there and slamming the door behind us, I came to a conclusion.  What good was sanity if I didn’t have her?

Chapter 27

Storey

He scared me and thrilled me, equally. 

              Wasn’t it bad enough that I had to walk on the sand in these stilettos? No, apparently it wasn’t.  I was a freakin’ pro at walking in weird places with five inch heels on.  And he didn’t even kiss me.  Not that I didn’t want him to.  I’d never wanted to be kissed so much in my life.  All he did was fix my shoe and touch my leg.  His hands were slightly calloused and so warm.  I stumbled the rest of the way to the car and nearly collapsed on the hood.  I could hit him for making me jelly-legged before I had to work.  If I’d had any inkling that he’d do that to me, I wouldn’t have invited him.  Shit, who am I kidding?  Yes, I would’ve.

             
I cleared my head.  This was one of my last jobs and I had to nail it.  Go out with a bang.  Ten minutes later I got the cue and instructions from the photographer and I situated myself on the hood of the car.  From the corner of my eye, I saw him exit the trailer and move to stand on the side of the set with a smirk on his face.  Yeah, he knew what he did to me. 

             
Let’s see if two can play this game.

             
I worked the camera like I’d never worked it before and after only thirty minutes of shooting, the photographer claimed he had what he needed.  I was shocked.  Usually it took an hour or so for a photographer to be satisfied.  Before I knew it, I was changed and ready to leave.  I passed the photographer and Louise, my agent, on my way out.  She’d shown up late, again. 

             
“Honey, I don’t know what you were thinking about through this gig but these shots are immaculate.”  They let me look at some and they were right.  That was some of my best work. 

             
He hadn’t moved from his perch on the side of the set and when I joined him he took my bag from me. 

             
“You were great out there. You blew them away.  They were going on and on about it while you were changing.”

             
“Thank you.  I had good inspiration.”  We both knew what I meant.

             
“What next?” He asked.  I was starving, so I suggested a local taco stand.

             
“Ok, that sounds good.” He put my things in my trunk and we went to eat.  It was a casual place right on the beach.  We walked up and Mad looked like he’d stepped into an alternate universe.

             
I laughed and asked him, “What’s wrong?”

             
He smiled down at me and shrugged.  “I have no idea what any of this stuff says.  Carne Asada, torta, frijoles refritos, what the hell?”

             
His complete dismantling of the Spanish language cracked me up.  “Well, why don’t I just order two of everything I get?”  He nodded, “Yeah, you do that.  ‘Cause otherwise I’m gonna embarrass myself pretty bad.”

             
The lady across the counter took my order and Mad just shook his head.  We got our food and sat at a tiny, wobbly table to eat. 

             
“I feel cheated,” I said halfway through the meal.

             
“Cheated?” he inquired.

             
“Yes, cheated.  You know tons about me and you’ve seen me work.  You got to see me in my cutest red heels.  I don’t wear those for just anybody.”

             
The tips of his ears reddened again.  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”  I believed him.  Somehow a trust had formed between us.  I’d never trusted a man in my life.

             
“Who are you looking for?” I wanted to ask him the other night but didn’t know how to bring it up.

             
“My Dad.  Well, my biological dad.  My mom died when I was a baby.  My biological mom and my other mom were twin sisters.  When Sela died, my mom, Sylvia raised me as her own but she didn’t know anything about my dad other than his name and birthday.  That’s the only thing Sela would tell her for some reason.  So, I took the summer to find him.  I just need to know.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.  But to me it was huge. 

             
“Your dad?  And Nixon was helping you?”  He nodded again, food still in his mouth.

             
He swallowed and continued, “Yeah, we took the chicken shit route and snuck out in the middle of the night.  I haven’t talked to anyone but Reed since.  I need to fix that.”  Reed, I wracked my brain to see if I remembered who Reed was.  I didn’t.

             
“Reed?”

             
“Yeah, Reed.  She’s great.  She’s my sister in law.”

             
I was glad he straightened that out because Reed was on my hit list for a fraction of a second.

             
“Are you starting college in the fall?”

             
“Yeah, I’m going to Loyola.  I was gonna go to Tulane like my brothers did but Loyola offered me a full ride.  So I took it.  Plus, it has a great engineering program.”  I didn’t tell him that I’d gotten into Loyola too.  It would sound like I was trying too hard.

             
“Engineer, huh?  I suck at all things math.”  He laughed.

             
“It’s always been easy for me.  It’s the literature and history that wracks my brain.  Bores me to death.” I gasped. 

             
“You did not just say that reading bores you to death.  You didn’t.”  He shrugged, “Sorry, I did.”

             
“Then you’re not doing it right.  Reading was my only solace for a long time. It heals wounded souls.”

             
He grew stoic.  I’d said too much.  “What?”

             
“I’d like to get my hands around the throat of whoever wounded your soul.  Refill?” I closed my eyes but nodded.  How did he do that?  Say something like that and then think about refilling my drink.  Who does that?

             
He came back with two drinks and sat down.  “So, who did it? Who hurt you?”

             
This was a new thing for me, trust.  But he trusted me with his Dad stuff.  I could do this. 

             
“His name was, is Simon.  He was my boyfriend for almost four years.”  His jaw worked back and forth.  “And?” He prompted.

             
“And, he cheated, he lied,” I really didn’t want to alert him to the fact that he sat across an idiot but I was compelled to tell him the truth. “He—he hit me.” For a few minutes I wondered if I’d actually said it out loud because he didn’t flinch—didn’t move one centimeter.

             
“Is he here?” He finally said.  He growled the words out at me. 
There it is ladies and gentleman, he knows the truth about Storey.  I’m the moron who let a guy beat on her for years—curtsy, cursty, applause, applause. Let the end credits begin. 

             
“In California? No, he’s at some university living it up.” His shoulders let go of their rigidity. 

             
“You deserve someone who protects you.  You deserve someone who puts you before himself. What an asshole.”

             
The feminist in me wanted to shout, “I can protect myself! I don’t need you.”  But she was quickly shut up by the more dominant girl in me.  The one who yearned for his protection.  The one who still reveled in his touch.

             
“Do you have any plans today?  Or do you want to be a beach bum with me again?”  I changed the subject before we got too heavy.  I noticed he brought a backpack so hopefully he’d planned to go to the beach.

             
“We can do whatever you want to do. I’m game.”  We got back into the car and I brought him to my favorite cove in Malibu.  It was surrounded by trees and from the public beach was hidden by a group of rocks.  Unless you were local, you couldn’t find it. 

             
I had remembered to put on a swimsuit under my clothes in the trailer.  He pulled off his jeans and revealed black swim trunks.  We sat on the beach and didn’t talk for a while.  There were a good number of older people strewn across the beach.  One lady, out of nowhere, started screaming at her husband and slapping his shoulder. 

             
I hypothesized, “She just found out that he’s been sneaking cheeseburgers after his triple bypass surgery.”  Mad cracked a smile.

             
“He forgot what they did on their first date and she’s gonna slap him until he remembers.”  I was grateful for a lighter conversation.

             
“He told her that he lied, her butt does look enormous in that bikini.” He threw his head back at that one.

             
“Nah, he just whispered something dirty to her.  She’s acting all offended like she’d
never
think of that in a thousand years.  They’ll be out of here in ten minutes flat.  Mark my words.”

             
“No way,” I said. “They’re like old.”

             
He shook his head, “Trust me.  My parents are super affectionate.  Just wait.”  And so I unabashedly stared at them.  There was no way he was right. I’d never seen my parents act mushy or gushy.  I don’t think I’d ever seen them kiss.

             
I looked out at the ocean, not really paying attention to the couple anymore.  I pulled my knees in and rested my chin on them.  A few minutes later, he tugged on my hair.

             
“Told you.” He smiled and tipped his chin to the couple across the beach.  They got up and gathered their things and shared one kiss before holding hands and walking away.  It was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. 

             
“That’s more action than I’ve ever seen out of my parents.” I laughed but it was true. 

             
“Mine have always been that way.  Even when they separated for a couple of years my Dad would still flirt with her and bring her flowers.  It was such a sham.  We all had bets on when they would get back together.”

             
“And did they?” I had no faith in relationships in general and doubted they had gotten back together.

             
“Oh yeah, they had a vow renewal thing and went on another honeymoon.”  I’d never really met anyone who had a family like that.  The parents I knew looked like they were serving a life sentence without parole.

Chapter 28

Mad

Falcon once told me that he loved Reed because she called him on his bullshit.  I wanted the opposite.  I wanted a girl to see that I needed an anchor to get through the bullshit.
 

              I couldn’t take it anymore.  I needed to swim.  How she could sit in front of the ocean and not get in troubled me.  But it was also refreshing.  She knew what she wanted and what she didn’t.  I swam for an hour or so while she sat on her towel and read.  She wasn’t one of these girls who will do anything just for proximity’s sake.  She was her own person. 

             
I tramped back to the beach through the waves and as I neared, she was crying.  My bodyguard instinct kicked into full gear, “What’s wrong?”

             
She wiped her tears and then pointed to her book.  I plopped on the ground next to her, not even bothering to dry off. “What happened?” I asked.  She explained that the girl in the book was depressed because the guy left her.  My mom, Nellie and Reed cried at books and movies all the time. 

             
She cut an incredulous look at me, “You’re not gonna make fun of me?”

             
I leaned over and made sure my face was as close as I could get it without touching hers and looked her directly in the eye, “Sweetheart, the sooner you stop comparing me to Simon or whoever, the better off we will be.  I’m not an asshole.  I’m not a jerk.  I’m gonna treat you right even at my own detriment.  Might as well get used to it.  Now, I’m about to tell you something very serious.  So whatever you do, don’t laugh.”

             
“Ok,” she grew completely serious. 

             
“I want pizza again.” She threw herself backwards on the towel and laughed so hard I thought she’d bust a blood vessel.  It took her almost fifteen minutes to get ahold of herself.  We went to a small pizza place and sat outside since I was too lazy to do anything but throw on a t-shirt.  And I swore when I put it on in the car she mumbled, “What a shame.”