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Unfortunately, the universe has some kind of sick, twisted sense of humor and immediately the sounds of Keith Morrison on Dateline streams through my surround sound speakers. They are focusing on a case involving the disappearance of a young woman. She was at a bar with her friends, left, and vanished without a trace. I mash down the power button on the remote with such force that, for a moment, I worry I broke it.
I can’t just sit here; I feel like I have ants crawling under my skin. I’ve never felt such a need to do something, anything, in my life. I glance at the clock and see that it’s just past midnight. She should definitely be home by now, right? Before I can put too much thought into my slightly unhinged actions, I toss a tee shirt on, grab my keys, and head out to my truck.
It only takes me a few minutes to drive over to the girls’ house. When I was deciding which rental property to put Bianca and the girls in, I had several open options but decided on this one because it was closest to me. It’s not that I’m much of a hovering parent—present actions excluded—but if something went wrong, I wanted to make sure that I was easily accessible.
As I approach the house, I slow down and pull over to the curb right in front of the neighboring house. It’s with a sense of relief that I see Violet’s car sitting in the driveway, safe and sound. That is until I realize that he may have picked her up. I let my head fall forward and hit the steering wheel, a loud groan escaping me. At this point I’m not sure what to do so I just sit there, staring, looking for any sign of life inside the small house. I don’t see either Bianca’s or Hollie’s cars in the driveway or parked on the street, so I can only assume that if there’s any signs of life inside that it will be Violet.
I don’t know how long it is that I sit and stare at the house before there’s a forceful knocking on my window. The sound startles me so much that I physically jump into the air. I turn and see a man about a decade younger than myself staring at me. He’s dressed in what looks like pajama pants and a tee shirt. I’m about to tell him to go fuck off when he hits my window again, this time with a clinking noise that comes from his Seattle PD badge hitting the glass.
I roll down my window before asking, “Can I help you with anything officer?”
“It’s detective. And yes, you can. You want to tell me what you’re doing sitting out here in your truck at midnight staring at my neighbor’s house?”
Well, shit. I guess the new neighbor moved in.“Actually, Detective, I own that house. My daughter lives there with her friends. I just wanted to check and make sure she got home all right.” He’s intently studying my face and I hope that the slight lie isn’t enough for him to assume that I’m up to no good and... what? Take me downtown? Wouldn’t that be just great? How would I explain something like that to Bianca?
His face is an impassive mask, giving away nothing. “Can I see some ID, sir?” I quickly pull out my wallet and extract the ID, handing it over. He studies it for a moment before handing it back. His posture relaxes the slightest bit and I get the feeling that while he thinks I’m probably telling the truth, he isn’t letting is guard down. “Haven’t you heard of a phone?”
I give a lame attempt at a chuckle and explain to him that Bianca wasn’t answering. I don’t think that I’ve ever lied to a police officer before and it’s making me jumpy. One wrong move and I’ll be in handcuffs.
“Look Mr. Moreno, it’s late. Why don’t you head on home. I’m sure your daughter will call you back when she’s free.” He hands the ID back to me and I toss it onto the passenger seat, not even bothering to shove it back into my wallet.
“Of course, you’re right. I’ll just head home. Thanks for keeping an eye out for the girls. I feel better knowing there’s a police officer on the street looking out for them.”
He merely nods his head and starts back toward his own house without a word. I release the breath that I’d been holding and put the truck in drive, heading back home.
I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking driving over here in the middle of the night. There’s absolutely no reason that anything should be wrong with Violet. People go out on dates every day and nothing happens. I know that my jealousy was making my imagination run wild, but I still can’t help the pit that’s formed in the bottom of my stomach saying that something just isn’t right with this guy.
???
The rest of the weekend went by at a snail’s pace. I tried reading, watching TV, working, and I even gave cleaning a shot. Nothing seemed to make the time go faster. I know it was my own pathetic need to see Violet. All that time spent doing nothing left me to the unfortunate realization that I may be developing feelings for the young woman who was not only my employee and daughter’s best friend but also seventeen years younger than me.
I knew it was a mistake hiring her. I thought that maybe the proximity would help me see her in a more realistic light instead of some sexy nymph I was lusting after. Well, I saw her in a more realistic light all right. The problem is that I’m liking everything I’m seeing more and more. It’s not like I could ever act on these feelings. Violet would be repulsed that her father’s best friend was coming on to her. And even if, by some great miracle, she wanted to give us a try, Bianca would absolutely lose her shit. It’s not worth destroying both my own and Violet’s relationship with her for whatever this might be. No, I’ll just stay quiet, admiring her from afar.
When Monday morning finally rolled around and Violet came floating into my office, it felt like the first time I could take a breath of fresh air in days. Unfortunately, that air was lined with the scent of jasmine that has my pants immediately feeling a size too small.Fuck.
After our initialgood morningsshe made her way to her writing desk and got to work. I’d like to think that I wasn’t going to ask. At the very least, I hoped I could hold out a few hours. Instead, seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds later was my breaking point.
“So, how was your date?”
She turned toward me, looking as surprised by the question as I was. “Uh, it was... fine actually.”
I raise my eyebrow at her. “Just fine? No sparks?” I know I shouldn’t be getting into this with her. This was absolutely none of my business but apparently my mouth didn’t give a fuck.
“Yeah, fine. I don’t know about any sparks. I’m not sure I’m a ‘sparks’ kind of person.” She averts her eyes from me back to her computer screen, making it obvious that she doesn’t want to talk about this with me. My enamored brain doesn’t give a shit.
“Just promise me something.”
“What?” She’s looking at me skeptically.
“That you won’t just settle. You deserve sparks, Violet.” Her mouth drops open and her face turns read. Her eyes immediately avert from mine. I’ve embarrassed her. But she needs to hear that. If even a fraction of the vibe I got off her parents is true, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told her that before.
Before she says anything in response, the phone on her desk rings. “Moreno Construction. How can I help you?... Oh hey, Adrian. What can I do for you today?”
My eyes narrow as I focus on her face that’s partially turned away from me. Adrian is the foreman of my second group of workers. They’re out doing some renovations on a business park across town. What I’d like to know is how she seems to know Adrian already. How did I never notice how many single men work for me before? I’m adding a marital status question to all employment applications from now on.
I turn back to my keyboard, attempting to finish the email I was typing to some prospective clients. Instead, my focus is entirely on Violet’s phone call.
“Oh no, let me just check.” She rifles through some papers that are neatly stacked on her desk. “Yes, his timecard is right here... Either Dante or I will give the payroll company a call... No, it’s not a problem at all. Please, let him know that I’ll get this corrected as quickly as possible... Okay, thanks for calling, Adrian.”
