I told myself that’s why I was hanging around, that I was watching out for her. And I was. I was curious and after talking to her over coffee, I was even more confused as to what she could have done in her life to warrant such a thing. Such death. Such money.
As a result, I was more or less honest with her questions, hoping that if I opened up a bit she would do the same for me. So far though, that didn’t seem to be the case.
When she invited me back to her place afterward, my first thought was to obviously say yes. All while my mind was trying to figure out her mystery, my body was responding to her gorgeous face and slim limbs like any hot-blooded male would. Plus there was the chance at some answers, as well as sex, if I got a chance to look at her surroundings.
But I couldn’t do it. My instincts were telling to wait, till I was in control of the situation. At her place, there were too many variables. In my hotel room, we were safe.
My plan was pretty simple. I didn’t need to impress her, so it seemed, but a little wining and dining wouldn’t hurt. The emphasis would be on the wining. I know it’s pretty backwoods to get information out of someone by getting them drunk – I’ve done a hell of a lot worse to get what I needed – but it would still be affective.
And, because of the company, somewhat fun.
I couldn’t remember the last time fun had ever entered the picture.
I had called Alana in the morning, telling her our reservation at Coconut Joes was at seven and that the cab and I would come get her at six. I thought about using the new rental car I just picked up but thought better of it. I’d already driven past her place too many times in it.
Even the sound of her voice over the line – how buoyant it was, despite all the shit and pain she still had to be going through – did something peculiar to me. I tried not to dwell on it but it was there, lodged in my chest and growing. I wondered if she was becoming more than a curiosity to me, a mystery to unsolved. I wondered if she was someone I was actually starting to care for.
Was it possible to care for someone you didn’t know?
God, I hoped not.
The hotel called up the cab and made sure the driver agreed on the price and the return trip before we started out – cabbies were known for ripping you off and Alana didn’t live near the downtown area – and soon I was knocking at the door of her first floor apartment.
That was one thing I didn’t like about her living situation. Though the apartment building was fairly new, Mission-style with white paint and a red-tiled roof, her apartment was ground floor, opening to a small gravel yard that you accessed through an iron-wrought gate. There were bars on her windows, which was the norm here, but that didn’t mean it was hard to get inside. All the apartments also seemed to back into an inner courtyard, probably with a pool, which meant there might be another door and easy access point into her place. It never slipped my mind that while I had been watching the front, someone could have been slipping through the back.
It was taking her awhile to get to the door, so I tried to look in through her barred windows, to get an idea up close without seeing too suspicious about it. But when the door flung open, I was caught somewhat red-handed.
“Hola,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “Wasn’t sure if I was home?”
She looked absolutely stunning in a white halter neck dress that showed off her perfect breasts, thin waist and full thighs. I barely even noticed her leg and arm in their casts.
“Just noticing your bars on the windows,” I said evenly. I frowned. “Is this a bad neighborhood?”
She smiled at me like I was a little boy. “It’s not the best but it’s not the worst. Most places worth anything have bars. Mexico has more crime than you would think.”
I nodded not letting on what I knew. “Well then it’s good you’re well-protected.”
“Yup,” she said, placing her clutch purse under one arm and reaching for something against the wall. I heard the electronic beep of buttons being pressed. “I’m all alarmed here. Just in case.”
I looked over her shoulder to the back of the apartment but it looked like there was no entry from the back. That gave me a bit of peace.
I took her arm and most of her weight and helped her out of her small yard and to the waiting cab. She smelled like flowers and hot sunshine and I was tempted to kiss her bare shoulders and see if they tasted like the tropics. As usual, though, I brushed the urges away and kept myself in control.
Once in the back of the cab, she was sitting with her thigh flush against mine. I was somewhat dressed up – dark jeans, white and blue pinstriped dress shirt – and yet I could feel her heat through my clothing. That and her smell and the way her hair fell across her face, highlighting the coy glimpses of her eyes and smile, was driving me borderline insane. Though we made small chat throughout the ride, my mind was elsewhere, concentrating on keeping that well-earned control I had. I had to focus on the task at hand, which of course was her. But not in that way. I needed in deep, for her own safety and my own sanity.