A Calculated Romance (11 page)

"I might be able to help.  What program were you using?" he asked, pulling a chair beside her and taking a seat.

She mentioned her word processing application while James took over the keyboard.  To her surprise, he recovered a portion of her progress and produced a memory stick to safeguard her efforts.  He continued laboring at the computer for another hour before retrieving and saving all of Landi's handiwork.  She'd put together an impressive presentation, but only completed about three-quarters of her assignment.  She still had part of the nineteenth century and the twentieth century to cover.

"Thank you, Jim.  I don't know what happened."

"I don't either, but I'd better stick around until you finish.  In case it happens again.  Let's save your work on the memory stick every half-hour, okay?"

"I'd appreciate that," she said, returning to her project

"I'll brew more coffee.  It may be a long night."

"What about your baseball game?" she asked.

Chapter 9
-Getting To Know You-

Landi raced across town, late for class.  She didn't finish the proposal for Katrina until a few minutes after midnight.  Explaining that he didn't mind missing a Dodgers game since she found herself in such a bind, James had stayed at her side until she hit the
send
button, forwarding her work to her boss. Then, he insisted on following her home to ensure she made it there safely.  He'd come up to be certain the place didn't harbor any assailants, and truth be told, she appreciated it.  Speaking about Rick brought back unpleasant memories and made her feel uneasy.

She'd slept through her alarm and now battled heavy traffic on what the locals affectionately called the Venice Expressway.  Venice Boulevard ran for miles from the beach towards downtown LA.  In most spots, it was a wide road with two lanes in each direction.  If one hit the traffic lights right, it sometimes proved faster than the interstate.  Landi stayed on the thoroughfare for as long as possible, eventually switching to the Ten Freeway.  Even with her creative route, she ended up missing her first class.  Still, it felt good for once to not budge before the crack of dawn.

James took another turn around the block, waiting for Ireland to leave her apartment.  He'd brought his tools, and the marine layer provided ample cover.  However, the girl's beat up compact car, which he now referred to as
the filthy beast
, remained parked outside her home.  He got the lay of the land last night when he'd entered the place and knew in what order he'd search her unit.  Now, as he jogged past her corner, he caught sight of her.  He fought the urge to stop and gawk—she looked so adorable.

The girl wore a boat neck dress that appeared to be from the 1950s.  Broad cream and navy horizontal stripes crossed the snug bodice while a full pleated skirt flared from her tiny waist, encircled by a thin, red belt.  As she dashed to her vehicle, her skirt swirled about her knees, and he noticed the cream ballerina flats on her small feet before her bouncing, shiny locks drew his attention.  When she opened the car door, he saw that the neckline formed a V in the back, revealing her milky, bare skin.  He put his head down and continued running, reflecting on how those stripes gave her figure a more grown-up appearance.

By the time he circled the block, she'd left.  He breathed a sigh of relief, looked around, and headed for her door.  In less than a minute, the knob turned and he climbed the stairs to her unit, locking the door behind himself.

James inhaled the girl's scent, something like orange blossoms and citrus with a hint of lavender.  He found it intoxicating.  He shook his head. 

You've got a job to do, idiot
.

To begin with, he attacked the closet.  His training told him exactly where to look first.  He removed the rods, one by one, and checked the hollow poles for any contents—nothing there.  He looked through each item on the shelves around the top of the tiny wardrobe, finding nothing unusual.  He explored every garment, rummaging through pockets and patting down hems.  He gave the shower curtain rod the same treatment as those in the closet, then riffled through the drawers, even checking the inside of the water closet's tank.

Next, he grabbed a kitchen chair and positioned it next to the bathroom door, which he left ajar.  He stood on the seat and removed a tiny saw from his sweatshirt pocket.  He cut away a section from the top of the door, shining a small flashlight inside the hollow core as he shook the cheaply paneled unit slightly.  He found nothing.  He repeated this for all the interior doors.

He checked behind mirrors and picture frames and tapped the baseboards to see if they were solid.  He ensured the carpeting was properly tacked down, running his hands over its surface to detect anything hidden beneath, before searching the kitchen.  All the while, he took care to return everything to its proper place.

More than an hour passed before he entered the bedroom.  Hunting through her drawers, he retrieved a white garment with pin tucks, holding it up to the light.  He smiled at the simple cotton night dress.

So this is what she wears under that bulky chenille robe
.

The thought of Landi clad only in the light material sent a jolt through him as his muscles tightened then relaxed.  His eyes roamed around the room, landing on the bed.  James could imagine waking up next to the girl each morning.  Before his thoughts ran away with him, he carefully folded the gown and returned it to the drawer, but not before putting it to his face and inhaling more of her perfume.  Then, he spotted an old sewing machine on a small table in a corner and realized she probably made most of her own clothing.  The little minx had talent as well as brains.  He needed to be careful.

A desk under a window held a computer.  James turned the device on and waited for it to boot.  He chuckled at the outdated technology—no doubt, all she could afford.  He tapped away on the keyboard after removing a memory stick from his pocket.  When he had downloaded everything from the old machine, he removed the flash drive and turned the computer off.

As soon as he'd searched the entire apartment, he plopped down on one of the thrift-store living room chairs and made himself comfortable.  The upholstery appeared new, although the style of the piece was 1940s or '50s.  He admired the floral fabric and wondered if she'd replaced the material herself.  A bit feminine for him, he still appreciated the girl's taste—refined compared to the trailer she'd grown up in at Cadiz.

Satisfied he'd found nothing incriminating, but still needing to review the computer data, he leaned back and pondered his next move.  The agency would want an update, and his theory still had holes.  He needed to find the missing pieces before he could get on with his life.  He felt his stomach growl and realized he should get back to the apartment.

When he arrived at Katrina's, Ireland was already hard at work.  Hundreds of comments had hit the website during the night.  She'd never seen such a response to a blog, and each needed to be answered. 

"Did my sister appreciate your efforts last night?" he asked, setting down bags of food from Hu's, his favorite West side Chinese restaurant.

"Yes, she sent me a very kind email thanking me for the proposal," she said, sniffing the air.  "That smells
good
," she added.

He smiled at the adorable way she titled her chin and lifted her small nose in the air.

"Oh, yeah. You're gonna really like this, M—Kumquat."  He'd almost called her
minx
.  "You hungry?"

"Uh huh."  She nodded, then continued, "I didn't have time for breakfast.  Slept right through my alarm, thanks to the late night.  I've never done that before," she added.

"Well, this is the best Chinese on the West side.  Dig in," he instructed, placing a mixture of small and large boxes on the table while removing the laptops to the kitchen counter.

Landi began piling sweet and sour chicken on the foam plate he'd given her, along with green beans, noodles, tofu, spicy eggplant, beef and broccoli.  She'd become accustomed to eating bigger portions since James came into her life.  She didn't even need dinner after he stuffed her with delicious food each day at lunch.  Today, he'd shown up late, and she was starving after skipping the morning meal.

"Thank you so much for helping me last night, James.  I couldn't have done it without you.  I still can't figure out what happened. You know, I researched why the program might have crashed on the internet last night after you left my place."

"Oh?" he said, munching on an eggroll.

"Yep.  Came up with nada.  It's weird."

"Well, you know how computers can be," he said, attacking some rice with a packet of soy sauce.

"I'm not very good with technology, I'm afraid," she admitted.

"Nothing to fear. I'm here to help," he said with a mouth full of food.

"You seem very good with it," she said, slurping down the sweet Thai coffee he'd brought from the restaurant.  "This drink is fabulous.  I'm surprised a Chinese place serves it."

Something in her casual tone set off warning bells inside Jim's head.  If it were anyone besides Landi, he'd suspect she might be on to him.  He shot her a look and found her eyes grazing over his features, finally settling on his own eyes.  He held her gaze for several seconds as her smile grew wide.

"Your eyes are the brightest blue today," she observed.  "You must be very happy," she added, cleaning the last bite of food from her plate.

"What do you think of Hu's?" he asked, changing the subject.

"
Delicious!
"

"I'll have to take you there for dinner.  It sits in this little residential neighborhood.  The customers fill up the street with their cars.  Parking's a bear, but worth it."

"What's for dessert?" she asked, a silly grin playing across her face.

"Getting greedy, are we, Kumquat?"

He saw the corners of her mouth twitch downwards.  She obviously didn't appreciate the nickname, but he felt the more he teased her, the sooner she'd see she had nothing to be sensitive about.  After all, he believed the motto of his buddies in the Marines: 
Pain is just weakness leaving the body
.  The same could be said for emotional discomfort.

  "I thought I'd take you out for yogurt later, but here's a fortune cookie to tide you over," he added, reaching into a small brown bag.

"I love fortune cookies!" she exclaimed, her smile returning as she snatched the little treat from his hand.

James sat amazed at the joy the smallest thing could provide her.  It was nice to be around someone so enamored with everything—so different from the typical Southern California girl.  He found her enchanting.  He watched as she cracked the cookie open and unraveled the small strip of paper hidden within, popping a crispy piece in her mouth.

"You will soon find fulfillment in your career and great prosperity," she read aloud, giggling.  "Go ahead. Read yours," she coaxed.

Seeing the delight on her face made him excited too.  He bit into his cookie and pulled the fortune from between his teeth, demolishing the treat as he crunched down with his jaw.

"Lucky number seven, five—"

"Come on!  Stop clowning around, Jim!"

"Okay, okay," he said with mock fear.  He continued, "In the near future, you will find the treasure of a lifetime."

"Wow, sounds like you're going to be a rich man, James," she teased, getting up to clear the table.

He watched her walk into the kitchen, her skirt swinging around her legs with her lovely back exposed.

"I like your dress," he called after her.

"Really?"

"I do."

"Thank you.  I made it myself," she said, but he already knew that.

She returned with her laptop and took up responding to the blog comments.  Another fifty or so posted while she ate lunch.  She let a sigh escape her lips.

"What's wrong?" James asked.

"I can't get on top of this blog.  Katrina answers every comment, every question.  Some of the things her fans ask take some research.  I've never seen this many posts before.  At this rate, I'll be here until midnight again."

"Let me know if you want my help.  I'd be happy to do some of the research for you," he said.

"Really?  I've got three questions about an art deco jewelry designer in Paris.  Care to search the internet for pictures of the work of Jacque Delepres?"

"I'm on it!" he replied, heading to the kitchen to retrieve his own computer.

The afternoon progressed with Ireland passing on a few questions at a time and James coming up with photos, answers, and witty remarks in response to Katrina's fans.  At four, he suggested they get some fresh air and gelato.

"I know a great place down by the beach.  It's just a few minutes away, and we could take a stroll while we enjoy our dessert," he suggested.

"Sounds good," she said. 

She'd made quite a bit of progress with the blog, and thankfully, no new comments came in while she worked.  She could use a break from staring at her screen.  James stood at the door, waiting for her.

"Let's take my car.  The Filthy Beast needs a break."

"At least it's paid for," she said.

He cast her a sideways glance, and they both burst out laughing.  She knew what he wanted to say.

"I know, I know. It would be really weird if it
wasn't
paid for!" she said, laughing.

"You took the words right out of my mouth!" he managed to croak out between guffaws.

Landi chose a hazelnut gelato while James picked chocolate.  He took her free hand and led her down the Santa Monica Steps, which traversed the hill, known as the California Incline, to Pacific Coast Highway.  When the traffic light changed, they dashed across the busy thoroughfare to the beach beyond.  They stayed on the cement bike trail, thus avoiding getting sand in their shoes.  Occasionally a local on roller blades sped past them, causing Ireland to laugh and squeeze Jim's hand.  Her kept hers tight within his grasp.

When they'd polished off their cones, they turned back towards where he'd parked his car.  A shiver shook Landi as a cool breeze rolled in off the ocean.