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“Speaking of buzzed, I was going to ring your buzzer but the door was open. I’m surprised a good policeman such as yourself didn’t have the house secured and locked down tight.”

  Damn. After that romp in the back of the cruiser our heads must have been spinning so hard that I forgot to close the front door. I know our sex life is hot, but damn…it must be on fire for me to forget such a simple thing.

  “That’s weird. I was thinking about getting delivery but forgot. Maybe I opened the door or ran out to the car or something. Just so busy these days, you know. Maybe it’s just me getting older.”

  “Naah, it’s you having a women in your life. Got you feeling butterflies and forgetting simple things.” He pauses. “Mind if I grab a Bud?”

  “Only if you grab me one,” I say. I need to take the edge off myself. I’m still pretty high strung since Vic’s arrive. Suddenly I realize I forgot to turn the TV on.

  Vic pulls a lighter from his pocket and pops off the bottle caps. “Cheers,” he says as we clink glasses.

  “Cheers,” I say. I’m a little late, but it goes unnoticed. “Feel like catching the scores on ESPN?” I ask.

  “Naah, I’m not following sports much these days.”

  “Maybe some tunes?”

  “No thanks. I was listening to the radio all the way here. Eight hours, can you believe it? Got stuck in rush hour traffic.”

  “Rush hour in L.A. One of the worst in the country,” I say thanking my lucky stars for traffic jams for the first time in my life. I couldn’t imagine if he would have got her a couple hours earlier to find his sister handcuffed in the cruiser.

  “Not one of the worst. The worst,” he says.

  “You mind if I put something light on? Just to unwind?”

  “Light music? Wow, this girl’s really got you good. Am I going to meet her tonight?”

  “Meet her?” I say. Is this guy loaded with irony or does he know and he’s trying to torment me? “Maybe that’s best for tomorrow. She might still be a little embarrassed and all.”

  “Right. I really need to apologize for that.”

  “No worries. We’ll be okay.”

  “We’ll? You’re like a team already? Wow. This is happening so fast, or has it been going on for awhile?”

  I reach for the knob on the radio in the kitchen. I usually just use that radio to listen to Dodger baseball games on their AM 570 flagship station. I don’t even really know any FM stations. I spin the dial until I find something and turn it up loud enough that it won’t wake up Charlotte, it will give Violet time to maneuver, and won’t be so loud that we won’t be able to hear each other.

  “Not long now,” I say. “But…you know how it goes.”

  “Yeah, I guess when it’s right it’s right.”

  “Exactly,” I say.

  I say nothing more and Vic doesn’t reply. The tension hangs in the air at least ten seconds as he stares at me. It’s friendly at first, but I see his eyes grow bigger as he’s analyzing my short answers.

  “Well, I look forward to meeting her in the morning. I’ll just pound this beer and make my way up to the guest bedroom if that’s okay with you?”

  “You don’t have to pound it,” I say. I just got the radio on and I need to give Violet some time.

  “Nah, it’s okay. I’m about to pass out as it is. If it’s still weird upstairs I can just sleep on the couch.”

  “No, that bed is all yours.”

  Then it hits me. Violet’s usually cold and likes to wear a sweatshirt. When I got home tonight she only had on one of my T-shirts. It’s almost a foregone conclusion that she was on the couch reading, in her sweatshirt.

  Or should I say Vic’s high school football sweatshirt. The one that has his number on the back!

  I find that sweatshirt on the couch all the time. It practically lives there.

  Oh shit!

  I’ve got to get him upstairs, and without passing too close by the couch…which we pass on the way to the stairs from the kitchen.

  Vic tips back his beer and finishes it off.

  “Okay, bro. I’m out. I don’t want to freak anyone else out tonight so I’ll just grab a blanket and fold out the couch. Easy,” he says as he walks past me.

  “No way, man. The bed is all made and ready for you. Fresh sheets and all.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m going to be snoring so loud I’ll wake the dead. Better down here.”

  I put my beer down on the table and walk hurriedly after Vic. I get to the side of him and guide him towards the stairs like a sheepdog herding its flock.

  “You okay?” he asks. His eyebrows are up and he’s looking at me like I’m crazy, which I am at the moment.

  “Yeah, you know I just don’t want my guests to sleep on the couch. It’s not cool.”

  “Your guests? Come on, dude. I’m way more than that.”

  He tries to maneuver past me, but I grab him by the elbows.

  “What are you doing?” he asks. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing. I just…you know we were doing some kinky stuff in there and I don’t want you to see.”

  “Awww! You dirty devil you. I was starting to wonder again. Man, you are really off tonight, and now I know why.” He looks at me and smiles. “I never knew you were a freak.”

  “I’m not a freak. Come on dude, let’s crash. It’s getting late.” I realize my words are too direct and too fast. I’m not guiding him upstairs, I’m attempting to verbally muscle him upstairs.

  We’re both trained in reading people and dealing with them. It’s just that right now my training is out the window and I’m failing miserably. We both know it.

  Vic looks over my shoulder into the living room.

  “Didn’t you give your high school football stuff to Carissa?”

  “Yeah, why?” I ask. Shit!

  “Wasn’t it there at the wake? She wore it all the time, right?”

  “Let’s go to bed man. You’re hallucinating from the drive.”

  Vic fakes left and I lunge to get him, but it’s too late. He cuts back right and towards the living room. I do the only thing left at this point…I play dirty and stick out my leg.

  Vic goes falling forward.

  I spin around and get up darting for the couch.

  Just as I pass him he grabs my ankle taking me down right in the living room.

  He drags me back towards him and tries to get me in a headlock.

  I roll out of it and there we are, two grown men wrestling on the floor.

  In the commotion he manages to right himself and get a good look at the couch.

  “Eighty-fuckin-four. That’s my number you asshole! Where is she?”

  Our wrestling turns into an all out brawl. A conflict into a war.

  Vic gave that sweatshirt to his sister years ago and she’s been wearing it ever since. No one else has one like it and it’s laid out all nice and neat on the back of the couch, displaying the number perfectly. Same color, same font, same worn out shade of gray sweatshirt. It’s unmistakable.

  And what else is unmistakable is how pissed Vic is when I feel his fist meet my jaw. I’m squarely on my back and with my head on the floor it lands solid, and does it ever land hard.

  I see stars, but quickly buck my hips sending him over the top of me as he goes to throw a second punch.

  It gives me just enough time to jump up before he leaves he feet entirely as he flies at my midsection, tackling me and sending us both into the couch, which tips over instantly.

  “Stop!” I hear. I recognize the voice. It’s Violet. “Vic, stop!”

  I take a number of solid blows, but they’re just to the body. I manage to get Vic flipped over and pinned.

  “I’m gonna let you up and you’re gonna either calm the fuck down or you’re gonna go.”

  “I’m gonna get out of this myself and then I’m going to beat your ass you piece of shit.”

  I keep him pinned and wait for our breathing to slow down. I need to calm down, but that’s
not happening anytime soon.

  He makes a quick motion trying to slide out but I keep him pinned. I’m not going to hit him though. Not once. I know why he’s acting this way and I can’t say it’s not a natural response.

  I use an old wrestling move I remember and which luckily we just practiced at the station a couple weeks ago. I shift his bodyweight and slide up behind him. I’ve got his arms locked high and there’s nothing he can do. I walk him toward the door, but not without a struggle.

  He tries lifting his feet off the ground to get me to slip so he can maneuver back into position. It doesn’t work but dragging him like this with him in front of me is hard as hell. He’s a big boy and it takes all I’ve got to get him to the door.

  Now for the hard part.

  “How you gonna open it asshole?”

  I try a quick slide move releasing one hand and opening the door and he uses the opportunity to spin back towards me.

  With the door open I do the only thing I can when I see him cocking back to throw a haymaker. I tackle him sending us tumbling outside into the night.

  We’re right back at, but this time we’re wrestling on the front lawn for the entire world to see.

  Luckily it’s night and everyone’s asleep, until the neighbor’s dog starts barking like crazy and lights flip on.

  “People see us,” I mumble because he’s got my head turned at an angle so unnatural I’m surprised I can even still breathe, let alone form understandable noises with my voice box.

  I’ve got his leg pulled back and he’s got my shoulders. We’re at a stand still unless one of us wants to tap out or break one of the other’s bones.

  “I’m going to let go and you’re going to leave. We can discuss this later.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss, because we’re never talking again.”

  “On three,” I say. “One, two, three,” I release his leg, but feel him still holding on. He could snap me like a twig right now but he doesn’t. Ironically he just had to trust me first. Trust that I would release him when I said I would.

  I feel the tension go out of my neck and he slowly makes his way to his feet.

  He stumbles back to his car as I stand and dust myself off.

  “Fuck…you!” he says, pointing at me. “And…fuck…you…too!” he says, pointing back to the open front door of the house. I turn and see Violet standing there.

  I turn back just as he spits blood and opens the car door.

  The engine turns over and he peels out leaving a long streak of tire markings behind.

  I turn back and see Violet standing there crying.

  Her hands come up to her face suddenly and I hear her balling as she turns and runs back inside.

  This is a complete disaster with no end in sight.

  CHAPTER 41

  Violet

  Valentine’s Day

  I drive over to Chance’s for Valentine’s Day. I don’t want to get my hopes up too high, but I sure hope he has something planned. I know he’s been busy a lot lately, so I try to temper my enthusiasm but I can’t deny…I do have hopes.

  The minute I pull into the driveway I’m expecting to see Charlotte open the door as she usually does, but she doesn’t. This could be good. Maybe he got a sitter and we’ve got the night all to ourselves.

  Chance never mentioned anything at all about tonight. He just kept it really casual like I should come by as I often do. I’m spending more and more time at his house, and we’re getting more and more comfortable with the idea of how well we can live together. It’s been perfect from the start and has remained that way since.

  I make my way to the door and before I can press the bell, the door swings open.

  I step inside expecting to see Chance behind the door, but find nothing. I’m intrigued, impressed, and curious at the same time.

  “Hello. Is anybody home?” I ask.

  I look ahead and see a sleek black dress hanging from a hanger which seems to be suspended from…the ceiling? I get closer and see that that’s the case indeed. It looks like he’s rigged some heavy-duty fishing line to the ceiling so the dress floats. I like it.

  I feel the fabric. It feels soft and elegant. As I run my hands over it I notice something on the hanger. It’s just a simple Post-it note that says, “Put me on and come to the garage.”

  The garage? That doesn’t sound very romantic.

  I take the dress and I’m wondering if someone is watching me. It’s kind of a strange feeling so I duck inside the bathroom quickly and slide into my gift.

  I wish Chance were here to zip up the back. I lean back and move my body a bit in the mirror and notice the tag. Gucci. I’m not a name brand kinda girl at all, but I have to admit that I am shocked.

  Surprising me is a very Chance thing to do, but doing so with what I would consider to be an overpriced gown when the same dress could be had for a fraction of the cost seems a little much. I kind of feel bad that he spent so much money on it.

  I get the zipper zipped up and then straighten the dress out in the mirror.

  I stand there for a minute taking myself in. “Now I know why these things cost so much,” I say. I literally feel the difference. The dress hugs in all the right places and hides all the others. The fabric feels even more amazing against my skin now than it did when I first ran my fingers over it. I finally understand what they mean about clothes changing your mood. I literally feel more powerful.

  “Wow,” I say to myself. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”

  Now I’m really excited. Wait? What about shoes?

  I walk back into the living room and put the shoes on I came in. It’s a definite mismatch. Oh well. I’ll stick to the plan.

  The second I set foot in the garage the lights flash on and there’s a man standing there!

  I jump, covering my chest with my hands.

  I look at the man who is dressed like a butler, or is it a chauffeur?

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “I’ll be your driver for the evening, madame.” He pauses. “If you’ll please take a step back I’ll prepare your ride.”

  “What in the world?” I say. I’m frozen in place and the gentleman is staring at me. “Oh, sorry,” I say.

  I step backwards and the man reaches down grabbing the edge of a…tarp? He flings it back quickly to unveil a Rolls Royce limousine!

  “Oh my god!” I say. “I didn’t even know those existed.”

  “They do tonight,” he says. “Right this way please.”

  He opens the back door and very professionally helps me into my seat.

  He gently closes the door once I’m in and moves back around to the front of the car.

  First, I can’t believe Chance did this.

  Second, I can’t believe it fit in his garage.

  Third, I can’t believe I’m in it.

  If only I had a better pair of…

  “Excuse me, madame,” comes over some sort of intercom. Whoa, this is next level. “In the compartment in front of you you will find two pairs of footwear. The first, in the black box, is for your arrival.”

  I press a couple buttons and finally find the right one.

  The compartment comes open and I see a black box and a red box.

  “The second you will need later. Please don’t open it now.”

  “Um, okay,” I say.

  I open the black box and see the most incredible pair of shoes I’ve ever seen. I’ve somehow managed to convince Chance to watch a few romantic comedies and even a historical romance with me since we’ve been together. I recognize the shoes as similar to the ones I commented on liking. All this time I thought he was dozing off and he was actually paying attention.

  “What an incredible man,” I say softly.

  I recognize the shoes from a shoe store in one of the high-end casinos. The store? Prada.

  I have on a Gucci dress and Prada shoes. And just to think I was the one wondering if he had anything planned.

  I can’t help but giggle
as the driver pulls out of the driveway.

  For the next few minutes I’m looking out the window wondering where he’s taking me. It seems like a few minutes at least, but it could be much, much more. It’s like time stood still since I walked in the house.

  Wait. I forgot to lock the door to the house.