Nickels (9 page)

“Meet at my place in thirty minutes?”

“See ya.”

He hung up the phone and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen. 
He swallowed several, chasing them with a sip of water.  Hopefully that would
dull the pain enough that he could make it through dinner.

He slowly climbed the stairs to the master suite, wondering
for the tenth time why he bought a two story place.  The doctors warned him
that stairs would cause him trouble for some time.  But he hadn’t listened.

Other than the stairs, the place was perfect.  It was only a
few minutes from Marcy’s house.  It was plenty big enough that he could fix up
a guest room when he expected visitors.  The den downstairs would be a perfect
place to set up his computer once he bought a desk.  Maybe he would go look for
one this weekend, if Dad could come with him.  There was no way he’d be able to
load anything into his truck.  Lifting heavy objects could set him back months
in his physical therapy.

Kyle looked through his closet for something casual but
nice.  If Niki really was going to be at dinner, he wanted to put his best foot
forward without looking like he tried too hard.

He selected a pair of Lucky brand jeans that Marcy insisted
he buy.  She said they were jeans that would get a woman’s attention.  He
didn’t get it, but he trusted her expert opinion.  Then he grabbed a dark gray
t-shirt with some design on it, tossing it on the counter.

Stripping off his work clothes, he stared at the reflection
in the mirror.  He hated the scars on his shoulder and chest.  They were too
much of a reminder of his brush with death and the accident that took his close
friend.  Nothing would be the same again.

He forced himself from the melancholy thoughts threatening
to overwhelm him.  Snagging the gray shirt from the counter, he quickly covered
his marred flesh.  He splashed on a touch of cologne and checked his hair. 
Good enough.

As he headed out the door, he opted for his bike instead of
the truck.  Marcy would probably have a fit, but he needed to feel the speed
and freedom of riding his Harley.  It let him feel like he was still in control
of something in his life.

“You have to come out with us tonight.”  Marcy’s voice
flowed through the speakers of Niki’s car.

“You’re kidding right?  I’m pretty sure your new boyfriend
has had enough of me.”

“Chad?  He’s the one that suggested you come.  He wants to
thank you personally for introducing us—in a way of sorts.”  Marcy’s voice went
whiny.  “Please Ni—iki.”

She sighed.  Nothing like being the third wheel at dinner
with a newly infatuated couple.  Should be lots of fun.  Then again, what else
did she have going on?

“Okay, I’ll go.  But I’m driving separate.  Just in case you
two gross me out with all your lovey-dovey googlie eyes.”

Marcy laughed.  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The phone went silent.  Then Niki’s loud high energy music
began blaring again.  Half an hour later, she pulled into the garage and
unloaded her usual stack of stuff on the kitchen counter.

Kyle’s charming smile came to mind.  The first week working
with him was much better than she thought, as long as she didn’t hold the
coffee-dousing against him.  He had been very friendly—almost flirtatious on
some occasions.  But, when it came time to get down to business, he turned very
professional—so completely opposite of the high school Kyle Jacobs.  That
version of him seemed dedicated to making her life miserable.

She thought of the swim class she was in with him.  Her
stomach tightened at the memory.

Niki had been a terrible swimmer back then.  With her
parents moving the family around so much, she never stayed in one place long
enough to learn.  Sadly, the first time she had a chance to learn was in swim
class in high school at the age of fifteen.

Kyle had been a good swimmer.  He was all confident and
cocky.  Rumor was that he took the class for an easy “A”.  He needed something
to boost his GPA.

The first day of the class, he must have sensed her fear.

“Scared of the water, Turner?” he taunted.  “Don’t you know
girls have more body fat so they float better?”

She was mortified, not sure if he was calling her fat.  She
wasn’t.  But she did feel very self-conscious in the bathing suit.

She didn’t feel any better when the instructor had to
explain the lowest level basics of swimming to her.  She had no idea what
treading water was.  She didn’t know the different style of strokes.  She started
out lower than everyone else.

Then, about halfway through the semester, the instructor put
her down at the deep end.  The exercise for the day was to learn how to tread
water.  She was standing next to the edge when Kyle came by and shoved her. 
She stumbled before landing in the pool with a loud
splash
.

She screamed before going under.  Her panic got the better
of her and she started to sink lower and lower.  The instructor dove in and
brought her back up.  Once she was at the surface, he talked her through
treading water.

Niki tried and just wasn’t getting the whole
scissor-kicking-while-moving-her-arms-back-and-forth thing.  But, she didn’t
sink again.

Then the instructor paired her with Kyle.  She was supposed
to push him in an inner tube for a certain distance, then tread water for a
minute, then push him some more.  The pattern was supposed to repeat.  Then he
would do the same with her in the inner tube.

Kyle made it as hard as possible for her.  He dragged his
arms and legs in the water, causing more resistance when she had to push him. 
Then he mocked her when she tried to tread water.  He kept yelling at her to
stop putting all her weight on the tube when she was supposed to be treading.

By the end of that class, she felt completely humiliated.

Niki sighed, shrugging off the bad memory.  She certainly
hoped Kyle wouldn’t do anything similar at Helitronics.  They were both mature
adults, right?

Another Friday.  Most people looked forward to Fridays.  Not
her.  It meant the beginning of two long empty days of keeping herself
entertained.  Unless she tried to get ahead on work.  She might not even log it
as billable hours.  No, Brian would have her head for that.  If she did work,
she’d have to bill it.

What did other people do on the weekend?

Marcy seemed to spend every waking minute with Chad these
days.  Then she went to church on Sunday morning and often to her parents in
the afternoon.  She always complained about the weekends being too short.

Niki had none of those things.  No boyfriend, because she
was dedicated to protecting her heart from loss.  No church, because she refused
to believe in a God who took everyone away from her.  No afternoons with
parents, because hers were gone.  Once every few months she would go with Marcy
to visit her friend’s parents, but that was not the same.

Grabbing her laptop case, she walked down the hall to the
master suite.  She smiled again at the new paint color.  It felt homier to her
now.  Extracting her laptop from its case, she set it on the dark walnut desk nestled
in the bay window nook.  Flipping the lid open, she debated whether to turn it
on.  She could squeeze in another hour of work before Marcy got home and they
left for dinner.  She pulled her long hair out of the tight ponytail.  Then she
ran her fingers through it, rubbing her scalp and shaking out the brown locks.

The doorbell rang, announcing a visitor.  Niki padded down
the hall to the front door, working on her game face.  She was prepared to
shoot down whatever the solicitor wanted.  As she opened the door, her stoic
face slackened.

“Hello, Niki.”

“Kyle.”  Guess he was stalking her now.

Chapter 10

Kyle shifted his weight to his other foot.  “May I come in? 
Marcy told me it would be fine if I met her here.”

Niki blinked at him through the security door with the wire
design of a coyote howling at the moon.  She really needed to switch that out
for something more her style.

Perfect.  Marcy would not be home for almost another hour. 
Now she would have to entertain Kyle—the last person she wanted to spend her
Friday night with.  She would much rather be coding.

At his throat clearing, she moved into action.

“One second.”  She closed the door then retrieved the key
for the security door from its nearby hiding place.  She never, never, never
let the person on the other side of the door see where it was hidden.  One
could never be too careful.  Key in hand, she opened the door, unlocked the
security door, and held it open.

Once Kyle stepped into the living room, she closed and
locked both doors.  She waited for him to turn his back and peruse the room
before she stowed the key back in the drawer of the sofa table.

“Wow.  You’ve got a nice place.”  Kyle spun around a second
time.

Her parents had picked a nice home.  It’s why she kept it.

“Thanks.  Make yourself at home.  I’ve got to go change.”

She turned back down the hallway, locking the master suite
door behind her.  She didn’t know why she did that.  She really had no reason
to distrust him.  None—other than two prank-filled years in high school.  But
that was a long time ago.  And it’s not like he ever physically harmed her,
though the day he’d shoved her into the pool came close.

Digging through her closet, she settled on a pair of
fashionable midrise jeans, bedazzled with flowers—something Marcy told her she
had to buy during one of their rare shopping trips together.  She hated
shopping as much as Marcy loved it.  Flipping through the casual tops, she
settled on a solid bright pink fitted v-neck tee.  Sliding a pair of wedge
sandals from the shelf, she dropped them on the floor as she stripped off her
blouse and skirt.  Just as she donned the jeans, her phone rang.

She looked around the room and realized she left it in her
purse in the kitchen.  Swiping the shirt from the bed, she threw it on quickly
and darted down the hall.  As she rounded the corner to the kitchen she ran
into Kyle as her phone stopped ringing.

“Drat,” she said trying to reach around him to get her
purse.  She must look a sight.  Tangled hair and all.

“Sorry.”  As he looked down at her, a half-smile played across
his lips.  He pointed at her shirt.

Looking down, her eyes went wide.  She had put it on
backwards!  Mortified, she pushed him out of her way.  She grabbed her phone
and ran back down the hall.  How did she always manage to end up in
embarrassing situations with him around?

Shutting the door behind her, she turned her shirt around so
the v-neck pointed down her front this time.  She picked up the phone and checked
her voicemail.  It was Marcy.  She was running late and she mentioned that Kyle
should be on his way.

“Thanks, Marcy.  Figured that one out.”

She stepped into her bathroom to freshen her makeup.  After
turning on the expensive ion curling iron Marcy made her buy, she brushed out
her hair.  She would have preferred to throw it back into a ponytail again, but
she knew Marcy would be annoyed by that.  For some reason, she insisted Niki
make some effort when going out.  That was probably part of her project to find
Niki a man. 

Twisting her hair around the curling iron, she held it for a
few seconds until a bouncy curl formed.  As she repeated the action over and
over, she realized she was taking a long time and that Kyle was unsupervised in
her house.  On the last curl, her hand slipped and she hit her finger on the iron. 
Shutting it off and unplugging it, she hurried back to the kitchen for a piece
of ice.  For once, she didn’t collide with Kyle.

He was standing in the great room with his back to her
studying one of the pictures on the wall intently, not turning around at her
presence.

She made one last trip back to her room to put on her
sandals and retrieve her phone before she entered the great room again.