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I was starting to bore myself with the rambling message. I cut to the chase.
“Listen, there’s been some stuff going on in my apartment building…”
No way in heaven or hades was I going to tell him where I lived. I’d spent the last few years feeling relatively safe knowing that Nicky couldn’t find me. Since college, I’d learned a few tricks. Don’t get a phone line so my name doesn’t appear in the phonebook. Get all my mail sent to a P.O. Box on the other side of town and then forwarded here. Avoid all hotspots where I’d likely have my photo taken and splayed all over the internet. It sounded paranoid, but it’d kept me safe, so far, from those who wanted to hunt me down.
“I’m not really sure why I’m calling, I guess I just wanted to know if you knew anything about it. But… probably not. You don’t have to call me back if you don’t want to. Anyway... that’s it. Bye, Nicky.”
I hung up the phone and let it fall to my black chevron rug.
Chapter Four
Wine. I needed a giant glass of calm-my-nerves and cuddle-on-the-couch wine that left me with just enough of a buzz to end the day in a great mood. Bursting through my bedroom door, I jogged across the living room and grabbed a bottle of California Merlot off the wine rack. Somewhere in the stacks of Johnny’s kitchen utensils was a cork screw. All I needed to do was dig.
I was elbow deep in one of the kitchen drawers when a knock sounded at the door. Glancing lustfully at the unopened bottle on the counter, I disengaged myself from the drawer and went to answer the door. Standing there in a pair of dark wash jeans, a casual blue buttoned up shirt, and a supple old leather jacket with the collar popped, was Gideon. He leaned against the doorframe as if I’d taken hours to answer, the muscles in his jaw flexing at the sight of me.
“What now?” I asked, turning away from the door.
Gideon’s unexpected presence made my thirst grow tenfold. I needed that cork screw.
“Just following up.”
He followed me into the room. I shrugged and motioned for him to close the door. We didn’t need a crazy old cat lady barging in. That would really make my night.
“Where’s your partner? Agent…”
Her name escaped me, but I couldn’t forget the way she’d scowled at me at the museum.
“Silva. She’s off following her own leads. I don’t think she wanted to come, anyway. She thinks you’re a dead end.” Gideon eyed the bottle of wine on the counter. “Expecting company?”
“Nope, that’s all for me.” I opened the bottom drawer next to the sink. The cork screw glinted up at me, the harsh florescent light bouncing off its shiny surface. “Success!” I grabbed it and pumped my arm in the air.
Gideon raised his eyebrow at me, but didn’t comment.
“Want a glass?” I asked, feeling slightly generous.
“Sure.” He turned to the black bookshelf near the hallway.
A few books took up the space on the bottom shelves. Mostly Johnny’s cookbooks and some of my trashy romances. The top shelves were claimed by a giant spider plant and more than a dozen photo frames of different designs. There was a photo of Johnny, Steven, Angel, and me. Another of just Johnny and Steven. And several of Johnny with his various family members. They were frequent guests at our small apartment. I just loved it when Johnny’s parents came into town. They were so loud and warm and loving. It felt like the way a family should be – nothing like my own.
“Where’s your family?” Gideon asked, as if he could read my mind.
I popped the cork on the bottle and let it rest. “We don’t like taking pictures.” I couldn’t meet his eye. I busied myself with grabbing two wine glasses and setting them on the counter.
“Is this your boyfriend?” Gideon pointed to Johnny in the picture of the four of us.
I had to admit, Johnny was ridiculously handsome. His smooth bald head, trimmed beard, ebony skin, and vividly white teeth made for the perfect package. And it didn’t hurt that he was blessed with an athletic figure. When I responded to his ad for a roommate, I’d been momentarily blinded by his good looks. Luckily, it didn’t take me long to realize Johnny was permanently off the market for someone like me.
“No, that’s my roommate,” I told Gideon, handing him a glass of wine. “And that other man in the picture is Johnny’s partner.”
Gideon’s mouth fell slightly open when the realization came over him, but he quickly shut it.
“I recognized Angel from the museum.” He pointed back at the picture.
“Yeah, she’s great. You should give her a call sometime. She’s really interested in you.”
I wasn’t sure why I was letting my mouth run away from me. My wine glass hadn’t even been touched. Something about Gideon made my brain turn to blubber. So, I took a giant gulp of merlot to shut it up.
“Oh… uh, really?” Gideon ran a hand over the back of his head. He shuffled his feet, looking away from me. “I’m not too sure about that. Not my type.”
