“It’s also a place that holds shitty memories for you.”
He’s right about that. Twenty years later, the anger is still a shadowy specter lurking at the edges of my mind. Most days, it remains blurred and out of sight. But there are times whenmy defenses are down or a triggering event occurs, causing the thirst for vengeance to pounce. I shake my head, dismissing his comment. “I’m not going to let that get in the way of tryna get to know her.”
“Just be careful about falling too fast,” he warns, and I give him a side eye for his hypocrisy.
“Didn’t you just claim to be in love after one night?”
He scoffs. “That word doesn’t hold the same meaning for me as it does for you. I’m not serious. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Appreciate it. But I’m a big boy.”
“With a big heart. So, all I’m saying is, just ’cause you think this woman might be running from something doesn’t mean you have to be the one to save her.”
“I don’t get the impression Lexie needs saving,” I try to explain, to reassure him and myself. “From what I can tell, she’s cautious but not fragile. She’s not some bird with a broken wing.”
“You saved one of those too.”
“It was a duck.”
“Same diff.”
“I get your point, Dice, and I can’t give it to you in logical terms. The truth is, I don’t know Lexie or anything about her. Or why, after just a couple of brief encounters, I feel such a strong pull. It’s blowing my mind. I have to find out if it’s real.”
“All right, bro,” he relents, puffing air into his cheeks. “So how you gonna find out?”
“I could ask her out again. Be upfront. Tell her how I’m feeling about our connection and?—”
“Man,” he cuts me off and stuffs his mouth, talking while he chews. “You don’t catch a scared squirrel by running at it, waving your hands. You gotta be subtle; gently lure her over with a few seeds.”
“She’s a woman,” I say wryly, “not a squirrel.”
“The same principle applies. So, listen up. You mentioned she’s a photographer, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Sooo.” He looks at me like I should be cluing in already. “She’s new to town. You could offer to show her some great spots to take pictures. Of course, you do it in the evening, all romantic-like. That’s bound to soften her up.”
“I don’t want to start off by deceiving her.”
“What deception? She likes photography, and you like her.”
“You can rationalize anything.”
“It’s a skill, my brother.” Dice grins and lifts his beer in a mock toast.
Leaning back, tipping the bottle to my mouth, I mull over his twisted logic and admit that the idea isn’t bad.
It’s two days before I see Lexie again. She walks into the café during the lull before the lunch crowd. I watch her approach the counter, wearing a cream puffer jacket, a raspberry scarf wrapped around her neck, and tight jeans tucked into knee-high boots. She’s holding a manilla envelope in her hand. I feel a rush of adrenaline, like the nervous energy I get before a live performance.
Sophia shoots me a sly smile, then turns to greet Lexie. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Same here. Sophia, right?”
“That’s me,” my sister nods.
“I’m Lexie.”
“I know. My brother might have mentioned you a few dozen times.”
