Lane
I’d stood like a fool waiting for my guest to make her way toward me, my feet practically glued to the tacky tile floor as I watched her ride the escalator like it was a red carpet. Once she stepped off, the craziness of what I’d done settled over me like a dark storm cloud.
Then she smiled. It was tentative and soft, like her quiet personality, yet it pushed all the storm clouds out of the way.
More happy than I should be to see her, I stepped forward and said, “Hi! Welcome to Florida!” I gestured toward the window, certain I was wearing a cheesy grin, and pretty damn happy my eyes were safely hidden behind dark aviator shades.
“Hi,” she said in a low voice, tilting her head shyly so her hair fell in a curtain over her face.
“Do you have other luggage?” I asked, grabbing her small carry-on case.
She shook her head and murmured no.
Low maintenance; not what I’m used to.
“Well, let’s roll. How was your flight?” I lifted her small piece of luggage with one hand, rather than rolling it like a wimp, and placed my other hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the exit.
“It was good, I guess. It’s only my second time on a plane, so as far as I know, it was all right,” she answered.
I stopped and raised an eyebrow, pushing my hair out of the way. “Get out. No way.”
“Uh-huh. The only other time I was on a plane was spring break in college. A bunch of us went down to Panama City, here in Florida.” She lowered her gaze, allowing her hair to once again fall in front of her face.
Who would have thought that a girl who was so fucking intoxicated that she passed out on me during a yoga class was this sheltered.
And I’m lying to her.
The thought caused a cold sweat to break out on my skin, even though I was in the air-conditioning. Standing in the middle of the airport, I gently lifted her chin and took in her natural beauty as I said, “Hey, that’s cool. I was just shocked. I travel week in and week out for work. Sometimes I forget that’s not normal.”
She nodded.
I moved my hand back to settle on her lower back. She was warm, heat seeping through her sweater and singeing my hand. “Well, Bess Williams, let’s go and have some fun.”
And, God help me, find a way to come clean.
Sadly, I knew only too well what lies festering did to someone.
Once settled in my convertible, I took Bess to an outdoor café for dinner. We made small talk in the car, but mostly I watched Bess take in her surroundings. She stared out of the car with wide eyes and amusement at all the joggers and sunbathers in miniscule bikinis walking around South Beach.
“We’re a long way from Pennsylvania,” I said, teasing her.
“I can see that,” she jabbed back in her shy way, and I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell happened to this woman. She was so different from that day she fell on my mat.
Was this what she was like before? Or only after?
I wanted all the answers to the Bess puzzle. After solving it, I would gently put it back on the shelf so someone else could have it for keeps. Except I was starting to think that could be next to impossible. As I watched her hair whipping and blowing, her delicate features taking in the glow of the Florida sunshine, and her brown eyes wide with excitement—or nerves—I thought,Who the hell would put this girl back on the shelf?
We went to a small Mexican place I typically frequented with friends or the occasional coworker. It wasn’t a see-or-be-seen type of place. It was more the no-frills, pitchers of beer or sangria, and chips with guacamole type of establishment.
After being seated on the back patio, I said, “So, I take it the weather is better here than back home?”
“A little bit,” Bess replied.
“Some days, I can’t believe I grew up in the cold weather. Life is so much better when the sun is shining. I know that makes me sound like a baby, but I don’t care.”
A likely story.Not once had I ever shared the truth behind my aversion to the changing of the leaves or the bare tree limbs that heralded cold weather.
“I kind of like the seasons,” she said as her smile grew. “I mean, I know the cold sucks, but I think it makes me appreciate the good-weather days more.”
