So
It might well have been her fault. But it wasnt even 6:00 a.m. Nick did have a few old-timers who arrived early now and then, tapping at the door at the crack of dawn because they knew he would be up, but she hadnt been expecting to run into any of them before the sun had even begun to peek out.
It was dark. Still the middle of the night to some people.
She was on her cell phone, as well. When it had rung, she had been certain it was Karen or Jan, making sure that she was up and almost out of the house. Naturally she answered it while juggling her coffee, purse, keys and overnight bag. It wasnt Karen or Jan, though, but her friend Len Green, who had been with the metro force for some time now and watched over her progress like a mother hen. He was calling because he knew she was leaving. He joked that hed called to tell her to have a great vacation and, out of kindness to Jan and Karen, since Ashley had opted to do the driving, make sure she was actually up and ready to swing by for them at approximately the right time. She laughed, thanking Len for calling, and indignantly informed him that she was always up on time. He mentioned briefly that he might be driving up that night after work with some friends on the Broward fire rescue team, so maybe they would run into one another. She had clicked the end-call button as she opened the door, but the phone was still in her hand.
There had been no tapping on the door. No hint of a knock at all. She was leaving, so she simply struggled with the lock and all she held, opened the door and barged right out.
And into him.
Into. Straight into. With impetus.
In the darkness, with the shadows of early morning broken only by the pale lights from the house, she walked right into him. She nearly screamed, as her overnight bag fell on his feet. One of the tins of cookies she had been carrying went flying. Her coffee cup, held in the same hand as her keys, was violently jostled, sending the hot liquid flying over both of them.
Shit!
Shit!
He was wearing a short-sleeved, open denim shirt, so the coffee hit his flesh. He sworean instinctive response to being scalded. When he swore, she swore. She felt herself being steadied and stepped back quickly, still wondering if she should scream like the bloody blazes. But apparently he offered her no threat.
He looked something like a large, toned beach bum.
What the fuhell! she stuttered.
Yeah, what the hell? he repeated, brushing at his chest, where her coffee had spattered. Im looking for Nick.
At this time of the morning?
Excuse me, but he told me to come at this time of the morning.
The man was definitely aggravated. A friend of Nicks, huh? She took another step back, frowning as she eyed him. Could be. Shed seen him before. Not all that often. He wasnt one of the guys who sat around the bar, sharing their lives as they played armchair football during the Sunday games. Quieter. Actually, he had seemed like the brooding, silent type, the few times she had seen him. Dress him up differently and he could be Heathcliff, out walking the moors. When she had noticed him before, he had been sitting. Now she saw that he was tall, six-two or three. He had dark hair, dark eyes, strong features, and he was somewhere in his late twenties to mid-thirties. He had a rough, outdoor-type look to him, but then, most of the people around the marina had that look. Deeply tanned and well muscledeasy to see, since he was wearing cutoffs and his shirt was open, probably just thrown on as a concession to the fact that he was arriving at the private entrance to an eating establishment where shirts and shoes were required by Florida law.
You should have knocked, she said, then was aggravated at herself, because she sounded defensive. She lived here, damn it.
Well, you know, I was about to do just thatbefore being attacked by flying coffee.
He was suggesting, of course, that she should be apologizing. No way. She had been, frankly, scared, and that had made her angry. This was her home, and there was no reason in hell why she should have expected a man to be standing there. Not to mention that she was wearing coffee, as well. So no way was she about to apologize.
Damn! she said, realizing that half the cookies were a total loss, already attracting sea birds. She stared at him again. Youve broken my cookies.
I broke your cookies? he said. She didnt like his tone at all. Or the way his facial features tightened, more with slough-it-off contempt than with any anger. He was incredulous, as if her cookies couldnt matter in the least.
Well, they did matter. They were a present. Sharon had left the containers on the counter with a big bow on them, suggesting she have a wonderful weekend.
My cookies are all over the ground. Good cookies. Home-baked cookies. Cookies that were a present. She tried to stop herself. She was sounding ridiculousover cookies. My keys are somewhere, Im late, and now I have to change. We dont open here until elevenfor your future reference. Nick is awake, however. Ill tell him that youre here.
You forgot something in your assessment of the damage.
What?
Your coffee just burned my chest. I could sue.
I would say your attempt to barge into my home caused me to ruin my own shirt.
And your cookies, of course.
And my cookies. So go ahead. Sue. You just do that.
She turned back into the house, intentionally closing the door in his face. Nick! she called to her uncle. Someone to see you. Beneath her breath, she added, Major-league, overgrown ass here to see you.
She didnt wait to see if Nick responded. In a hurry, she raced through the private quarters that abutted the restaurant to her bedroom, changed quickly and started back out again. Apparently Nick had heard her, because the man was standing in the kitchen now. Nick did seem to know the guy, because they were discussing something over coffee. As she breezed through, they both stopped talking. The dark-haired man watched her, coolly appraising, judging her, she was certain, but as to what his judgment might be, she had no idea, nor did she care. Nick had certainly never required that sheor any of his employeesbe nice to people simply because they were customers.
Ashley Nick began.
Wheres Sharon? Is she up yet? I need to thank her for the cookies, she said, staring back at the newcomer. She got a better look at him now. Tough guy, strong body, good-looking face, easy, powerful, controlled manner. Probably thought he was Gods gift to the women of the world.
She purposely looked away from him and at her uncle.
Sharon didnt stay last night. She was getting ready for some campaign work this morning, Nick said. Ashley, if youll take a second
Cant. Ill hit all the traffic if I wait. Love you.
Rude, perhaps, but she was in no mood for an introduction and pleasantries.
Drive carefully, Nick admonished.
Absolutely. You know me. She kissed his cheek. Bye. Love you.
Outside, she retrieved everything that she had dropped, except, of course, the cookies that had spilled and fed a half dozen gulls.
She could hear Nick apologizing to the man on her behalf. I dont know whats with her this morning. Ash is usually the most courteous young woman youd ever want to meet.
Sorry, Nick, she thought. She hoped the guy wasnt a really good friend of his.
She was about fifteen minutes late picking up Karen, which made her about twenty-five minutes late picking up Jan. Yet once they were all in the car, it didnt seem to matter so much, and the tension and anger she had been feeling ebbed quickly. They were still a good fifteen to twenty minutes ahead of the real start of rush hour. Both Karen and Jan were in terrific moods, delighted that they were heading off on their few days vacation together. There had been one container of cookies left, and Jan had happily dived right into them.
Hey, pass the cookies up here, Karen said to Jan.
Excuse me, you got shotgun, I got the cookies, Jan responded, grinning, then passed the tin of homemade chocolate chip cookies up to Karen in the front seat. Karen offered them first to Ashley, who was driving.
Ashley shook her head. No, thanks. Her eyes were on the road. So far they were clipping nicely along I-95. It didnt seem to matter that they had started out later than intended. Not that much later, she told herself.
Thats how Ashley stays thin, Jan noted. She has the just say no thing down pat.
Its because shes going to be a cop, Karen said.
Ashley laughed. Its because she gorged on them before leaving the house, she told the two of them. That was true. Before the one container had gone to the birds, shed eaten a number of them.
Think they might be dietetic cookies? Karen asked hopefully.
No way. Nothing that tastes this good is dietetic, Jan said with a sigh. Well make it up, though. Well check into the hotel, go to the pool, swim like the dickens and walk it all off at the parks.
Well just eat more junk at the parks, Jan said woefully. Boy, Ashley, you just had to bring these cookies, huh?
If I hadnt brought the cookies, we just would have stopped and ordered something really greasy at one of the rest stops, Ashley assured her. There should have been more cookies, actually. Enough to last the trip.
What happened?
I dropped them. Actually, I banged into some guy looking for Nick and they went flying. His fault, not mine.
Were going to have to stop anywaycoffee to go with the cookies, Karen reminded her. In fact, Im stopping here and now. Not one more bite until we get the coffee to go with the cookies.
Milk would be good, Jan said.
Milk goes with Oreos, Karen said. Coffee goes with chocolate chips.
I actually had coffee, but thenoh, well, Ashley murmured.
You dropped it, too?
Yeah, I dropped it. She grinned at Jan via the mirror. Actually, I spilled it all over him. And myself. I had to change. Thats why I was so late.
Was it a good friend of Nicks? Jan asked. Was he ticked?
Hey, was he cute, or one of the old salts? Karen asked.
I dont think hes a good friend, but Ive seen him around before. I guess he was ticked. But it was his fault.
That you spilled coffee on him? Jan said.
Well, he was just therepractically in the doorway. Who expects to open their door to a hulking stranger before six in the morning?
Well, actually, you should, Karen pointed out. All those aging old tars living in the houseboats at the marina know Nick is up early, and theyd rather have your coffee than make their own.
So, Ash, you started the morning off by burning an old geezer? Jan said. That isnt like you. Most of the people who frequent that place think youre the most wonderful little darling in the entire world and that Nick is lucky to have you.
I hope you didnt cause an old guys pacemaker to stop, Karen told her.
I dont think this guy has a pacemaker.
He wasnt an old geezer? Jan said, perking up.
He was a young asshole, Ashley told her.
Hey, you never answered me, if he was cute or not, Karen said.
Ashley hesitated, frowning slightly. She didnt pay a ton of attention to everyone who came into Nicksshe didnt help out now anywhere near as much as she had done in years past. But she was usually observant. She noticed faces, because she loved to draw. And she usually remembered features very clearly. It seemed strange to her now that she had seen the man before and really not taken that much notice of him.
I would never describe him as cute, she assured Karen.
Too bad. I was thinking there might be someone hot and new at Nicks to observe, Jan said sadly.
Ashley was silent for a minute.
Hey, she didnt say that he wasnt hot, Karen observed.
I dont think hes the type Id want to take an interest in, Ashley said.
Because he was rude? Jan asked. It didnt sound to me as if you were in the mood to be Miss Manners yourself.
Ashley shook her head. I wasnt rude. All right, yes, I was rude. Maybe I should even have apologized. But I was just in a hurry, and he startled meeven scared me there for a few seconds. Hes justdark.
Dark? Hispanic, Latin, Afro-American? Karen said, confused.
No, dark, as inintense.
Ah, intense, Karen said.
Well, I mean, hes dark, too. Dark-haired, dark-eyed. Tanned. Apparently likes boats, or water, or the sun.
Um. Sounds sexy. The dark type.
Did he have a bod? Karen demanded.
Yeah, I guess.
Maybe Ill start hanging around Nicks more, Karen said.
Oh, right, like you need to go looking for men, Jan said.
Yeah, I do. Who do I meet at a grade school? Youve got it made, because you stand up in front of hordes of people in great outfits and sing. Youre the one who doesnt need to go looking for men.
Looking is easy. Theyre all over. Finding good ones is tough, Jan said.
Well, forget Nicks, then. Dont all the psychologists say never to look for a date in a bar? Youre supposed to meet them by bowling or something, Ashley said.
I hate bowling, Karen commented.
Then bowling probably wouldnt be a great way for you to meet a guy, Jan observed. There you have it, how not to date in a nutshell. Put the three of us together, and we can really solve the major problems in the world, she said ruefully.
Hey, I solve the problems of six-to ten-year-olds on a daily basis, Karen reminded her. Im responsible for molding the minds and morals of the future voters of a country in need of the best next generation in history. Ashley spends her days learning how to shoot and deal with the scum of the earth. This weekend, I think we should leave the serious stuff behind and worry about the next best serious stuffour tans and the size of our butts.
We wont set our goals too high, Jan said. If we can just find a few strangers who have bathed and are halfway articulate and dont mind a few minutes on a dance floor, well call it social triumph. I need a cookie.
Works for me, Karen agreed. Butbutt size, huh? I think I have to have one more cookie, too, before the coffee, since its going to be at least twenty minutes before we reach the rest stop.
Ashley noted, with a quick glance at her friend, that Karen delicately bit off a tiny piece of cookie and chewed slowly, savoring every nuance. That, she decided, was how Karen stayed the nearest thing to perfect. She ate everything, but had the art of nibbling down pat. One cookie could last Karen an hour. She was petite, a perfect size two, with huge sky-blue eyes and a sweep of natural, near-platinum hair, testimony to a distant Norse heritage, along with her family name, Ericson. Jan, on the other hand, was dark-haired, dark-eyed, five-nine and as fiery as her Latin surname, Hevia, suggested she might be. Ashley referred to them often by the fairy-tale names they had gained as children: Rose White and Rose Red. She was a green-eyed redhead herself, the coloration courtesy of her mothers family, the McMartins, since her last name was Montague. Her fathers family had been mainly French, with a little Cherokee or Seminole thrown in, which meant that she had only a small spattering of freckles on her nose and the ability to acquire a fairly decent tan without burning like a beet first. She was the medium between Jan and Karen at five feet six. The two had playfully labeled her the thorn in the roses. The three had been friends since grade school, and had shared dreams, victories and heartaches ever since. This weekend was something they had been looking forward to for a long time, since their adult lives had taken them in very different directions. Karen was teaching and going to school for her masters degree. Jan was a singer, and though she doubted she was ever going to achieve mega-star status, she didnt care. She loved singing and songwriting, and her career was beginning to take off nicely, if modestly. She and her accompanist were being booked as an opening act for shows across the country. Ashley was in her third month at the metro police academy, and she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into every class, every subtlety of the law, rights and self-defense that could be learned.