Jump The Line (Toein' The Line Book 1) (59 page)

I get the urge to rip off the dress.  Does Aidan think he can buy me?

“
H
e’
s here
,”
Robin says.

Chapter 54

When I answer the door,
I’
m instantly breathless. 

“
Close your eyes, Alaina.  Do
n’
t open them until I say
.
”

I smell his skin, after the brief kiss he lands behind my ear, setting me on fire, and go with the intensity of my reaction.  I
t’
s been a while, but he still has the same effect.  The little fire he lights screams across my brain, awakening the need in my body that I swore I would
n’
t allow.  I close my eyes and laugh when he lifts me into his arms. 

“
What are you doing
?”
I squeal.

“
Keep your eyes closed
.
”

I giggle, feeling light as a feather, but I know i
t’
s gotta be a challenge, even for someone as strong as Aidan, to lift me off my feet and carry me out the door and up my basements steps.

“
Okay
,”
he says, putting me down.
 “
Open your eyes
.
”

“
Is it fo
r—
me
?
”

Ther
e’
s a red Ferrari parked at the curb.  The skinheads who stripped the Coke truck Stoke and I stole would kill for even the hood ornament.

“
Is this a joke?  I mean, Aidan, I do
n’
t mind accepting dresses for a gift, and roses, but this is to
o
—”

“
Vulgar
?”
he says.
 “
I
t’
s not for you. 
I’
d just like to take you for a birthday ride
.
”

Headsmack.  How could I have imagined h
e’
d bought me that car as a present?  Men do
n’
t give Ferrar
i’
s to girls they barely know.  Do they?

Aidan opens the door for me, and I slide into the posh leather seats.

“
This is for you
,”
he says, handing me a tiny gold ballet slipper the second he closes his door, and right after leaning over and kissing me. 

I resist the Berta Colby urge to crunch the charm between my teeth.  I
t’
s obviously gold and very expensive.

“
Thank you
,”
I say, pleased, still smarting from embarrassment at my faux pas over the Ferrari being a birthday present.  When will I learn how not to act like Goshen, Ohio trash? 

“
I forgot this.  What goo
d’
s a charm without a bracelet
?”
Aidan says, leaning across lthe console, his gaze sweeping my bare thighs.   

I hook the charm to the bracelet.  Feeling not the least bit awkward, I forget my promise to resist my crazy urge to devour him. 
I’
m sitting in a Ferrari with a hottie wh
o’
s just given me a gold bracelet with a ballet slipper charm.  Why deny this moment?

I open my legs a little, and then I smile into Aida
n’
s eyes and laug
h—
delighte
d—
when he slides his hand possessively onto my thigh and runs his hand up my leg.

“
So if yo
u’
re auctioning this baby off for charity
,”
I say, my heart pounding
,“
what do you drive
?
”

I
t’
s the only thing I can manage to squeak out, and I know it sounds stupid as hell.

“
A Toyota
,”
he says.  Removing his hand from my thigh only long enough to shift the Ferrar
i’
s gear, he rockets us forward.

* * *

It was a ride
I’
ll always remember.  The Ferrari, Aidan told me as we drove to meet our party for the birthday luncheon, was a present from Doctor Smalley.  Aidan also explained his background to me, about how his mother got pregnant with him by Doctor Smalley.  Like Aidan, I also did not know my real dad as a kid.  Being adopte
d’
s probably just as bad.  I
t’
s supposed to be salvation for kids, but as Aidan and I agree, it can also be hell.

I started talking about Megalo Don, but Aidan shut that down before I got started. 

“
When
I’
m off duty,
I’
m off
,”
he said.
 “
I want your birthday celebration to be ours, uninterrupted by work or any bad lingering memories of what happened
.
”

We spent lunch with his parents, Judge and Babbs Hawks, wh
o’
d arranged a charity auction for the Ferrari.  Aidan switched the registration to Vine Works, Babb
s
’ charitable foundation.  It felt like half of Cincinnati showed up.

My mom and Robin came to the party with Wes, recovering from a bullet wound.  Stoke shot him, but Wes had crawled inside the room where Stoke and I and Brick were fighting.  When I slashed Stok
e’
s face with my razor, Wes shot Stoke. 

I’
m sad Stok
e’
s dead, but h
e’
s the kind of friend I do
n’
t need: no one does. 

DeeDee, apologizing all over herself to Aidan and Wes for allowing Stoke to steal her service weapon that morning at Arne
e’
s, thanked me over and over.

“
What for
?”
I asked, not thrilled sh
e’
d been invited, but taking Babbs Haw
k’
s advice
:“
Be gracious to her, Alaina.  Sh
e’
ll positively hate it
.
”

I worked on following Mrs. Hawk
s
’ advice, and loved the result.
 “I’
m just grateful yo
u’
re alive
,”
I told Officer Barbie, a bald-faced lie.

Aidan said to be nice to her, too.  Sh
e’
d made some screw ups, but she was a NPD officer and deserved respect.
 “
Sh
e’
s a rookie, like yo
u’
ll be one day
,”
h
e’
d said.
 “
Sh
e’
ll learn
.
” 

Captain Meyers could
n’
t come, but his girlfriend, Mayor Darlene Laws, showed up acting like royalty and demanding to cut the first piece of birthday cake for a photo op with the
Enquirer
.  No problem: I let her.  She bid an obscene amount of money for the Ferrari.  Watching her write the check made Aidan happy.

A surprise guest was an FBI agent, SAC Smith.  H
e’
d arrived at Stok
e’
s apartment and coordinated the SWAT attack.  Thanks to the SAC and his leadership, Aidan assures me, that effort saved my life.  A few minutes later, and Brick Verbote and Stoke Farrel woul
d’
ve had their final two teeth for their collection.  The SA
C’
s job included getting the terrible aftermath of that scene under control, including the collection of forensic evidence.

“
What are you plans after you graduate
?”
the SAC asked, when h
e’
d managed to corner me.

“I’
ve been accepted at CUNY
,”
I tell him.
 “I’
d like to get my Maste
r’
s in forensic psychiatry, and then see where I want to go after that
.
”

He slipped me his business card.
 “
The FBI is hiring, Ms. Colby, and I hear from Detective Hawks yo
u’
ve already done some fine work on an important case
.
”

Chapter 55

After the luncheon, Aidan and I, finally alone, take the stairs up to his second floor apartment above the stage.

“I’
m awestruck by what you and your mom are doing with the opera house
,”
I say.
 “
Vine Works is an impressive project
.
” 

The Hawks Opera House itself is also impressive.  I
t’
s a vintage eighteen hundreds structure.  I
t’
s elegant yet cozy, like Ford Theatre, where Lincoln was shot.  Solid wood cornice work adorns the box seats, amassed like layers on a wedding cake above the main first floor.  But when we step inside Aida
n’
s apartment, i
t’
s like stepping into a different world.  The
dé
co
r’
s modern, masculine, bold black and white and gray fabrics and a massive leather couch tastefully arranged in front of the fireplace. 

From the moment Aidan picked me up in the Ferrari until now,
I’
ve felt weird: happy and edgy at the same time. 
I’
m not used to all this wealth, the rich exotic world Aidan lives in. 
I’
ve not worked this hard to get where I am, just to become an ornament on his arm, and
I’
m feeling lost in all the opulence that makes up Aida
n’
s private life.

Another concern is the tripod standing in the center of the room with a camera locked on its top.  I
t’
s pointed at the couc
h—
at me.

“
Wha
t’
s that for
?
”

“
Another birthday surprise
,”
he says. 

“
Oh
?
”

Holding hands, we crash to the couch in front of the fire h
e’
s obviously started for my benefit.  I feel suddenly self conscious, like a performer on a stage, like
I’
ve come home with a stranger.  The camera reinforces my edginess.  My close call with Megalo Don has taught me a few things, made me jumpier. 

“
Seriously, wha
t’
s that for
?
”
 
My tone makes it clear I want an explanation.

“
Like I said, a surprise.  One more gift
.
”
 
He pulls my foot into his lap and starts massagaing it.

“
I do
n’
t want any mor
e
—”

He stills my protest with a kiss. 

My little black dress, having survived the Ferrari ride and the charity auction luncheon, rides up my thighs.  I relax, but keep a wary eye on the camera.
 “
Wha
t’
s the gift
?”
I say, feeling spoiled, but not happily so.

“
I know i
t’
s important for you to make your video for the Rockette
s
’ jump-the-line competition
,”
he says, nodding toward the camera.
 “
I want to help you do it.  For your birthday
,”
he adds.

The catch in my throat, the breathless feeling
I’
ve had all day, releases.  Along with it, I feel twenty-on
e—
okay, make it twenty-two year
s
’ worth of worryin
g—
dissipate.  My lifelong companion, the feeling
I’
m a displaced alien wh
o’
ll never find my place in the world, also releases.

“
This is difficult
.”
Aidan says.
 “
I do
n’
t want to hurt you, bu
t
—”

I tense.
 “
But what
?
”
 
My knees go weak.  Surely, he would
n’
t treat me like a princess all day, and then give me the kiss off?

“
If you decide to stay here after you graduate
,”
he continues
,“
that is, if you decide not to go to New York,
I’
d like you to teach dance at the opera house
.
”

I do
n’
t say anything right away.  How should I take his offer?  Like he does
n’
t think I can make it as a Rockette so I should stay here and accept charity?  Even if I do
n’
t get a call to come try out for the Rockettes,
I’
m down with that.

“
Aidan,
I’
ve never imagined I can dance professionally with my disability
.
”

“
I
t’
s a salaried position
,”
he says
,“
and demanding.  I
t’
s not charity, if tha
t’
s what yo
u’
re thinking.  Yo
u’
d be working hard
.
” 

“
I need time to consider your offer
,”
I say finally, giving myself a mental high five.  Now
tha
t’
s
self-confidence, a girl taking her time to think over an offer that comes with a salary.
 “
I still have to finish this semester, and
I’
m worried about getting my GPA back up so I can graduate Summa Cum Laude
.
” 

I do
n’
t mention it to Aidan, but
I’
ve also got to start helping Robin pay for college tuition.  If I go to New York,
I’
ll be scratching to get by, a poor starving co-ed, again.

“
Meantime
,”
I add, smiling
,“
I can use all the help I can get making my jump-the-line video.  As a birthday present
,”
I add.

Rising slowly from the couch, I hold out my hand.
 “
Dance with me
?
”

“
Ther
e’
s no music
,”
he says.

“
Oh, Aidan, there is.  Come on
,”
I say.
 “
Let me show you how to listen with your body
.
”

When he pulls me into his arms, I feel the oh-so-familiar sweetest heat.  I feel something else, equally as thrilling.  As I listen to the imaginary music playing inside my head, I realize that i
t’
s gone: the frenetic rhythm of my old drea
m—
is gone.  Instead of
Mas Que Nada
,
I’
m hearing the mushy lines from Tammy Wynett
e’
s
Stand By Your Man
. 
If you love him, oh be proud of him, because after all h
e’
s just a man.

Picking up Tamm
y’
s clunky beat, I follow Aida
n’
s lead, my feet gliding with his steps, my bod
y—
our bodie
s—
becoming one.  Pulling me gently along, he dances me toward the camera.
 “
I
t’
s your birthday, Alaina.  We could do a test video of your jump-the-line routine
,”
he says.  Pulling the sleeve of the soft jersey dress h
e’
s paid for down off my shoulder, he kisses the naked flesh, nuzzling the cloth farther downward. 

“I’
ve not seen you dance, other than at Oma
r’
s, an
d
—”

I hide a shiver.
 “I’
m so done with Oma
r’
s, Aidan
.
”

Not that it matters.  Omar and Rakesh Gupta left the country.  DeeDee Laws, who
I’
m finally able to stop calling Officer Barbie, and her mom, the mayor of Newport, have vowed to keep Oma
r’
s shut down.
 “
No more exotic bars in Newport
,”
they promised at my party.

“
The Ass will always be there
,”
Aidan had said, causing the two Laws ladies to join forces and smush Aida
n’
s handsome face with cake icing.  I had to stop Officer Barbie from licking it off.  Detective Laws has also developed a fondness for Nick LaFiglia.  Aidan says Arne
e’
s owner is in trouble: DeeDe
e’
s decided h
e’
ll help her get her colla
r—
somehow.

“
—
would you mind showing off my favorite harem outfit
?”
Aidan asks, unaware ther
e’
s little tears of happiness squeezing from my eyes.  

“
Turn off that camera
,”
I say, pulling his head down for another kiss.

“
Wha
t’
s wrong
?
”

“
Aidan, shut
up
and roll the camera
.
”
 
I kick off my shoes and give Aidan a sample of the steps
I’
ve been practicing for my tryout video.
 “
Just a preview
,”
I tell him, pulling Aida
n’
s little black dress up over my thighs.

“
Mercy
!”
he says, the desire heating his gaze assuring me he means it not at all.

I laugh: what irony.  Sometimes, i
t’
s sweeter to toe the line than jump it.  But lately,
I’
ve adopted a new motto.  Why compromise?