Out of the Blue (7 page)

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Authors: Opal Mellon

BOOK: Out of the Blue
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He looked at his phone.

Picked it up.

Dialed.

Waited.

“Hello, this is Nicole.”

“It’s Justin.”

“Oh. Hi Just—”

“Can I have Molly’s number?”

He heard Sean tell Nicole not to give Molly’s number to that whack job, and grinned when Nicole ignored him and gave it to him.

“Did you write that down?”

“I got it.”

“You sure? Don’t call again if you forge—”

“Thank you Nicole.” He hung up. He punched the number into his phone and entered Molly’s name. Then for no reason he could think of, added a smiley face to the end of her name before saving it to his phonebook.

Outside, night was falling, and he knew he’d have to open the club soon. He wasn’t ready to put the Molly problem away and assume his role as host. Maybe he’d take the night off, just this once. Maybe he’d call Jason away from school to sub just this once. He doubted he’d be great company for anyone right now anyway. Too many things stirred up and whirring around.

He opened his phone and saw Molly’s info still on the screen after saving. He hit call. After four rings her answering machine came on. He felt a little relieved.

“Hi Molly. It’s Justin. I feel like ice cream. I was just wondering, I thought you could go with me, if you want, or not. But anyway call me.” He left his number, feeling his face burn bright red, and then slammed the phone down on the desk.

Dang it. He’d sounded like an eleven-year-old asking a girl to his birthday party. He called Jason, who quickly agreed to come watch the club.

He bounced impatiently against the back of his chair. The phone rang. It lit up with Molly’s name and a little smiley face. He swallowed, and reached for it.

“Hello Molly.”

“I’d love to go for ice cream,” the quiet voice on the other side of the phone said.

Justin felt calm come over him, and he couldn’t tell if it was extreme nervousness, or just all of his former feelings of rejection melting out at her simple acceptance of his offer.

“Great. I’ll pick you up.”

She gave him her address. After she hung up he stared at the phone for a moment, turned it over in his hands. He was going out for the night. He turned off the light and walked out of the office.

 

“I’d love to go for ice cream.” She heard the words like someone else spoke them. Like they’d snuck out of her mouth without her permission.

She glanced at the computer on the other side of the room. She hadn’t checked her email since work, but she’d still felt crawly.

She didn’t even know how far away Justin was, or when he would be there. She looked down at her brown pantsuit she’d worn to work. Maybe she should change. Then again this wasn’t a date, was it? She pushed herself up with the arm of the couch as if heaving the weight of the world up with her. She moved to the bedroom. She watched the carpet as she walked and realized she’d like to replace it. Good serviceable brown, but her life had enough brown. Maybe a nice, dangerous cream that would attract dirt, maybe an orange shag? Maybe a green.

The doorbell rang. Molly turned on the stairs and glared at the door. Where did he live? That was so fast it was almost creepy. She should just leave him on the porch while she got changed. She pulled on the jeans that were closest to her on the floor and dropped her suit pants on the bed.

She grabbed a T-shirt and was about to put that on, when it occurred to her that it could be someone other than Justin at the door. Maybe the stalker. Or maybe the stalker was outside watching and Justin was outside vulnerable on the porch? She put on the T-shirt and hopped down the stairs, swinging on the banister and skipping the last few steps with a large, flying jump that ended in a thud. She checked the keyhole.

Not Justin. Nick from work.

She sighed and opened the door. Nick was still in his work clothes, his hair slightly ruffled. His hands jammed in his pockets. She’d never seen him outside work. Never really seen anyone outside work for that matter.

“Hi,” he said, shaking dark hair off his pale forehead.

“Nick?”

“Yup,” he said. “Looked like you had a tough day at work. I brought you brownies.”

“Thank you.” The plate was heavy and brown. He’d brought more brown into her life, just what she needed.

“Can I come inside for a moment?”

Justin shouldn’t be there for at least a couple of minutes. Plus, he wouldn’t mind another guy around. He was used to hanging out with other men, right? She gestured past the door for Nick, who moved quickly around her. He surveyed the apartment.

“Is the kitchen back there?”

“Yes,” she said. “Here, I’ll take them.” She didn’t like him walking through her house, knowing where everything was. She barely knew him.

“No, I’ll set them on the counter,” he said. “You go ahead and sit down.”

It’s my house
, she thought. But she sat. He came back from the kitchen and sat on the same couch. She scooted over.

“You left early today,” he said. “That’s not like you. Is something wrong?”

“Only ten minutes early,” she said. “I have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” he said. “Should I go?”

“You don’t have to yet.” She sat back and propped her feet on the ottoman, then put her hands behind her head and sighed. She started to pull her hair out but stopped when she felt Nick watching. For some reason, pulling her hair out in front of him would seem oddly intimate, something she didn’t want with her gangly, quiet but pushy coworker.

Someone knocked on the door.

Molly stood up to get it, but before she could, Nick stopped her.

“Listen Molly,” he said. “Before anyone else comes, I’ll tell you why I really came.”

She raised an eyebrow, looked at the door impatiently, and then gave him a look that said he had about five seconds to explain himself.

“I like you Molly,” he said. “I want you to share your problems with me. I’d like to see you outside work sometime.”

Was this a joke? Why would he want time out of work with her?

A second set of knocks sounded, louder this time.

“Why Nick? I don’t understand. What do we have in common other than work?”

It sounded like someone at the front door tested the doorknob to see if it was locked. Was it the stalker? She felt her face tighten just barely, but Nick seemed to notice.

He snuck an arm around her shoulders. “That’s what I’m talking about Molly. Sometimes you seem so lost, so vulnerable. I could protect you.”

“What?” She forgot about the door as confusion and rage rolled through her. “Excuse me? I don’t need you to protect me.” She didn’t need anyone. Oh no, she was becoming that Molly again. Oh well, she’d rather be that Molly than some desperate, clinging Molly that accepted help from this presuming idiot.

“Ah.” Nick sat back. “I like that. Independent. Then how about I just do this for you? I’m sure no one else does.” He wrapped his arms around her.

Completely unthreatened, Molly waited to see if she felt anything. She never felt anything when men tried to do stuff like this. Just complete disinterest. Was she broken? She just felt bony arms grabbing at her.

“Nick,” she said, preparing to pull him off. She wished he hadn’t done this and made things awkward.

The door swung open. Someone shouted her name and they both turned to see who it was.

“So this is the stalker?” Justin stomped across the carpet. “Good thing the door was unlocked and I came when I did.”

She lifted a head to explain, but Nick jumped back from her and let go.

“What stalker? Molly, are you being stalked?” Nick seemed genuinely confused.

Justin hauled Nick up by his plaid collar. Molly couldn’t help noticing the play of the strong muscles in Justin’s forearms beneath his tan, smooth skin. She didn’t need a man to protect her, but she felt that if she did let one, she’d prefer Justin to do it.

“Get off me.” Nick kicked Justin in the shin.

Justin swore under his breath and dropped him.

“What are you doing here anyway? Where do you get off coming in without an invite?” Nick adjusted his shirt.

“I was invited. Were you?” Justin looked at Molly instead of Nick as he asked it.

She shook her head at both of them. “Stop it. Nick, I said I had plans. Thanks for coming by, but please don’t again. I’d prefer to keep our relationship a strictly professional one.” She walked over to extend a hand to help him up but he didn’t take it. He pouted on the ground for a moment before getting on all fours to push to his feet. He walked to the kitchen and took his brownies, scowled at both of them and headed out the door.

Justin and Molly raised an eyebrow to each other. Justin looked like he wanted to laugh.

“And it’s good to know you’re just as shallow as every other woman, Molly! I thought you were different! It’s true that nice guys finish last I gue—”

But Justin shut the door in his face before any more of his tirade could reach them.

“Wow,” Molly said, sitting down again.

“Still feel like ice cream?” Justin sat on the other couch and propped an arm on the armrest. He looked so relaxed, so at rest, even after a scene that had utterly riled her. Why did it seem he was her opposite in every way possible? What a sucky day.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” he said. “That was super disturbing.” He brought up one of his legs to balance his ankle on his other knee and folded his arms behind his head. “Wow, you have the worst luck. Stalker and a crazy coworker all in one day.”

“Wait.” She sat forward. “Do you think it could be him?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “He was certainly being the super creep. Did you see him take his brownies back? Too bad; we might have found date rape drugs in them.” He laughed.

Molly frowned. Watching Justin laugh was the last straw. This day was the pits. She didn’t realize she was crying until she saw Justin’s stricken face and the way he dropped his hands and uncrossed his legs.

It couldn’t really be called crying. She was just leaking. Her tear ducts were malfunctioning and thus water was slowly trickling down her face. The last time this happened was in college when …

“Molly? I’m sorry.” Justin’s handsome face looked crumpled and troubled. Before he’d looked the confident hero, but now he looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Molly would have thought Justin would have more experience with crying women. Then again, maybe that’s why he looked so afraid.

“I don’t see why it’s so funny if someone wants to date rape me,” she said. “Why? Because I’m ugly? Because I don’t have any friends? Is that why I deserve a stalker, and a perverted coworker?”

“No Molly. Shh.” He pressed a finger lightly to her lip and then sat beside her. He reached out an arm for her to curl under, and she was shocked when she did. It was just nice not to be alone. To be warm. She smiled.

“I’m sorry kid,” he said. “I make jokes when I’m nervous. I wish I had proof that he’d done something to those brownies because then I’d have an excuse to beat the creep up.”

“I can’t picture you beating someone up,” she said. “Oh wait, yes I can.”

“I know, I don’t seem the type.” He ruffled her ponytail. “But trust me, if I’d tried those brownies and they’d been drugged I’d have been on him like white on rice.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Anything for a friend. Besides you said you’d let me make it up to you.”

“I did,” she said.

“So yeah, I’d check out date rape brownies for you any day.” He appeared to consider it for a moment then narrowed his eyes and pursed full lips. “That is if you could promise not to take advantage of me.”

“I think I could promise that,” she said. “I wouldn’t know what to do anyway.”

“Really?” He took her hands to pull her up. “That sounds like an interesting conversation to have over ice cream.”

“I don’t know.” She smiled. “But yes to the ice cream.”

“Yes to the ice cream.” He grinned. “I’ll take it.”

Chapter 5

“Y
ou’re getting a small?” Molly frowned.

“Is that a problem?” Justin asked.

“It’s just that if you are getting a small, I have to get a small, right?”

Justin snorted, and then gave her a look that said he was waiting for an explanation. He let one person go in front of them in line.

“Just something I heard.” Molly looked away.

“Molly have you never been on a date?”

“I’ve been on dates!” she said. “Like two.” She looked for dust on the floor so she didn’t have to see Justin’s face.

“Molly, you are getting a large.” He moved up in line. “Have you decided what flavor?”

“I’ll decide what size, thanks.”

Justin threw up his hands and laughed. “All right, Miss Independent. As it should be.”

After they picked up their ice cream, they turned to look for seating. Molly looked at hers in disgust. Somehow mixing rice milk with pistachio flavor had resulted in something like Shrek’s skin in a blender.

“That looks bad,” Justin said. He took a seat in a booth at the corner and she sat on the other side. “Want to try mine?”

“No,” she said. She took a bite and winced. “It’s so good. You wish you had it.”

“It looks like someone sneezed. Someone very sick.”

She glared at him.

“Okay.” He ate his chocolate concoction. “Good you got a large then.”

She watched his mouth work, watched his face and mouth muscles. Around the café, other women were watching them.

Was this a date?

“Is this a date?”

Justin choked. He pushed soft hair back from his face in a way that reminded Molly how feminine he could be at times. “No, Molly, it’s not a date.”

She stared at him, not letting emotion show, either disappointment or relief.

“I just invited you out to get ice cream alone, paid, and drove.”

She perked up. “So it is a date?”

“Yes, silly.”

“I’m not the one who’s a male escort.”

“Shh, you’ll expose my secret identity.”

And he did look worried that someone would hear, so Molly apologized.

“So is that what you want to do with your life?”

Justin set down his spoon and looked to the window, giving her another opportunity to study the lines of his face, his straight jaw, the deep teal of his eyes beneath long lashes …

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