Pacing my hotel room, I glance at my watch for what feels like the hundredth time. Sasha should have called me by now. Eric should have checked in by now. I clench my jaw and resist the urge to dial. I’ve never had someone that I talk to every day, just for the sake of talking. Where the whole purpose is to hear her voice. It’s foreign, and yet somehow feels so normal. Not talking to Sasha doesn’t even feel like an option. She calms me.
I glance at the clock again.
She sent me a text before she left for dinner with Jessica, but even with the hour time difference it’s late enough that she should be home by now. I’m sure things just went long. If they’re anything like my mother when she’s out with her friends, they could talk for hours.
That has me calming a small amount. Sasha has had a lot happen over the past few weeks. I want to think that she can talk to me about anything, but – in truth – most of those things revolve around me. And for some reason, picturing Sasha talking to one of her friends about me, about us, has me calming further. She deserves a night out. And once her contract with Mazzanti Enterprises is over, I’ll take her out on a proper date.
I understand Sasha’s reasoning for keeping us a secret. I do. As much as I think it’s bullshit, I accept that our relationship could have repercussions for her. But I wasn’t lying when I told her I don’t want her going on to another assignment. I don’t want her working for another rich prick. Not that I think she’ll be unfaithful. I just don’t trust men. I don’t trust that they’ll treat her with the respect she deserves. She shouldn’t have to put up with that shit. If she’s out of my sight all day, I’ll do nothing but worry to the point of causing a scene. It’s not a trait I’m proud of, but I’m self-aware enough to admit the truth of it.
Luckily, I have some ideas that will keep her close to me.
My relaxed façade crumbles the second my phone rings. Like a lovesick teen, I lunge to answer.
“Sasha.” I say in greeting.
“Mmm. Hi Vincent.” Sasha purrs into the phone.
My dick reacts to the throaty voice before my brain registers that something is different. Her words are a little slurred. Then it hits me. She’s drunk.
“Hi, sweetheart. Let me call you right back.” I say.
“Oh.” She sounds crestfallen. “You’ll call back?”
“Right back.” I reply.
Hanging up, I immediately dial Eric’s number.
I should have left Angelo in Minneapolis to cover Sasha alongside Eric. Eric’s good, but she’s mine. And he let her go out and get drunk. In public. What the fuck was he thinking?
“Evening, boss.” Eric greets me.
“Status report.” I say, tone hard.
“Just finished my review of the security cams and my check-in with the man on the street. No action at Home Base to report on.”
“No action, except for Sasha being drunk. Explain.” I know I’m being an asshole. But I don’t fucking care.
Eric is used to my attitude by now and doesn’t change his professional demeanor. “We met Sasha’s friend Jessica at the restaurant. At my request they moved to a table of my choice. I sat where I could see the front and rear exits. Driver stayed parked out front. I don’t think Sasha realizes that the drivers are a part of her security crew yet.”
“Good. I don’t plan to tell her.”
Eric continues. “After we met Jessica in that coffee shop, I had a feeling they would probably talk for a long time. I also had a feeling they’d drink. I pre-arranged for three plain clothes guards to be in the restaurant. Two at a table between the girls and the door. The other at the bar with eyes on the girls. They tailed us back to Home Base. We detoured to bring Jessica home at Sasha’s request. She never suspected the watchers. I’m sure she would’ve said something if she did.”
“Agreed.” I take a moment to think through Eric’s plan, and I have to admit that I’m impressed. “Good work.”
I hang up. Eric’s not in this job for the praise.
Sasha picks up after two rings. “Hey, boyfriend.” Any hard feelings from me cutting her off earlier are clearly forgotten.
A smile pulls on my lips. “Hey, girlfriend.” I hear crunching. “Are you eating?”
“Just some crackers.” Her words are distorted by food, and – instead of being unpleasant – it’s adorable. “I know I shouldn’t eat after brushing my teeth, but I need these puppies to soak up some of the tequila.”
“Hmm, not a bad idea.” I agree, wishing I were with her right now.
“Plus, Captain likes the crackers, too. Don’t ya, Cap?” Sasha giggles and I swear I hear her cat meow in agreement. “He doesn’t want to be hungover tomorrow either.”
“I bet. I can probably get your boss to let you have tomorrow off.”
“Oh really, you know Cheryl?” Sasha asks. A moment later she breaks down into laughter.
This girl. God, she’s cute.
The sound gets muffled, and I imagine her dropping her phone onto the bed. I close my eyes and lay on my own bed, pretending I’m with her.
When Sasha comes back, I swear I can feel her smile through the phone. “Sorry. I’m a little bit drunk. But I’m blaming Jessica. She’s such a bad influence. And fun. And she’s super understanding. I think she might be my best friend. Or, well, I think I’d like her to be. I should probably tell her that, right? Is that how you do that?”
I know Sasha, so I don’t know why it comes as a surprise that she might not have a lot of friends. I think back through her background check and our conversations. She’s close with her brother, but that’s it. Parents deceased. No other family. She throws herself into her job. I don’t think she’s ever mentioned anyone outside of work by name. Aside from Jason, her needle dick ex.
Unaware of the direction my thoughts have turned, Sasha carries on. “You probably don’t have that problem. Everyone wants to be your friend. Like that bitch Amanda. But you don’t need anyone else. Plus, you’ve had Angelo since, like, forever.”
“Did you just call me old?” I tease. “And who’s that bitch Amanda?”
“You are old. And Amanda is nobody. And as long as you remember that, you’ll get to keep your pretty eyes in your head where they belong.”
I chuckle. “Who’s the gangster now?”
Sasha sighs into the phone. “I wish you weren’t so far away.”
“I know, baby. I’ll be home soon.”
“Want to know a secret?” She whispers.
“Always.”
“I’m sleeping with your shirt.”
“I don’t remember leaving a shirt at your place.” She’s silent. “Sasha, did you steal it from me?” I can’t stop myself from needling her. “Sasha are you a little thief now?”
A loud exhale floods the speaker. “It’s your shirt from Vegas.”
It takes me a moment to catch on to what she’s saying. Vegas? As in the first night we met. The first time we slept together.
I smile when it comes back to me. “My T-shirt?”
Sasha makes a humming sound.
“I figured you took it to wear back to your room. I didn’t realize you kept it.”
“Sorry.” She mumbles. “I know I shouldn’t have taken it, but it was so soft. And it smelled like you. I wanted a way to remember you.”
“It’s okay, baby. I’m glad you have it.” The thought of her hugging my shirt while she sleeps causes my chest to warm. But the idea that what we have could have started and ended that night makes my heart ache. “Why don’t you put me on speaker and set the phone down. If you insist on going to work tomorrow, you should get some sleep.”
“Okay.” I hear shuffling, followed by the click of her lamp turning off. “I’m in bed now.”
“Covers up to your chin?” I ask, knowing her penchant for burying herself in blankets.
“Yep.”
“Captain already fast asleep, or is he still eating your crackers?”
I smile at the movement I hear. She’s checking.
“He’s asleep.”
“Alright, sweetheart. Leave the phone on. I’ll hang up when I know you’re sleeping.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Vincent. I…”
My eyes fly open. My heart starts beating faster than it did a second ago. “You what, Sasha?”
“I… I hope you sleep well.”
That’s not what she was going to say.
“You, too.” I murmur. “Now close your eyes.”
I’m not sure how long I lay here, listening to the sound of her breathing. Her. My Sasha. My girlfriend. The woman who almost said I love you. She stopped herself. She caught it before it was out. But that’s what she was going to say. I fucking know it.
I wasn’t expecting it. I also wasn’t expecting the feeling I’m experiencing now. I feel a sense of yearning. I want her to say it. I want to hear her say those words to me.
With my eyes still closed, I ponder how that’s possible. Do I love her back?
And, with thoughts of love, I slide into sleep. But instead of bringing me answers, my sleep only brings memories.
I fall out of the car, landing at my dad’s feet.
“Dad!” My ears are still ringing but I can hear my voice enough to know that I’m sobbing. “Dad!”
I crawl up towards his head, chunks of glass cutting into my palms.
There’s a second spot of blood on his shirt. This one lower, in his stomach. The blood isn’t spreading, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
Dad’s hand reaches out for me. I grip his fingers as tight as I can. As I look up at his face. He’s pale. Too pale.
“Dad. What do I do? I don’t know what to do?”
His fingers grip mine back. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
I beg for help, as I watch the life leave his eyes.
With a jerk, I wake.
“Fuck.” I mutter into the darkness willing my heart to slow.
Rolling onto my side I see the call with Sasha is still open. Her soft breaths sounding through the phone. Instead of hanging up, I pull the phone closer. My dad’s final words whisper through my mind as I close my eyes again.
It’s okay. I’m okay.
