Falling for the Ghost of You (9 page)

"We got two new people dow
nstairs, but they're pretty self
-sufficient," Liz is saying.  "Oh, and Helize was asking yesterday when is her 'flower' coming back."

"
Aww
," I say.  "How is she?"

"The same," she replies, pulling her dark hair back into a ponytail.  "But Irma broke her right hip a month ago, so now she's a full assist."

"Poor Irma."

We head over to the office for a meeting.  Everyone there welcomes me back with hugs and questions about my vacation in Hawaii.  But was it really a vacation if you're working ful
l-time in a bakery?  According to the others,
as long as you're in Hawaii, you're on vacation.

I look through the communication log for updates on my residents while we have our meeting.  After it's over, I grab my walkie and pager and head for the storage room to get a box of tissues.  Helize always needs tissues, and she's the first one on my list.

She’
s already awake, lying in her bed.

"Rise and shine, woman," I announce, flipping on the lights.

Her clear blue eyes blink up at me.  "Is that my flower I hear?"

"Your one and only."  I turn off her oxygen concentrator on my way to her bed.  "Good morning, beautiful."

Helize frowns at me, causing her delicate skin to bunch around her mouth and eyes.  "I was just lying here, trying to think of your name.  Lily, was it?"

"Close.  Lily is my mother's name.  I'm Violet."

"Ah, that's it."

I help her pull back the covers and begin the long process of helping her sit up.  Then we work at untangling the nasal
canula
from her fine white hair.  Meanwhile, I tell her all about my summer in Hawaii, and my mother's surprise engagement.

"And what have you been up to?" I ask her as I push her wheelchair over.

"Oh, the same.  Not much changes around here."  She sighs tiredly and reaches for a crumpled tissue stuffed in the sleeve of her nightgown.

"No wild parties?  Dancing on tables?"

Helize cackles.  "Oh, my table-dancing days are long over.  Have I ever told you about that time in Nogales when the
federales
thought I was a prostitute?"

This is what I love about Helize.  You can say anything to her and she'll come up with something even more wild.

I get her up and in her chair, and start pushing her toward the bathroom.  As we pass her mini fridge, I fish in my pocket for the magnet and slap it on there.

"I got you a souvenir from Hawaii," I say, stopping so she can look at it.

"Oh, sweetheart!"  Helize peers at the magnet, then frowns slightly.  "Violet!  Is that a
vagina
?"

"What?!  No—i
t's a humpback w
hale with it
s mouth open!  Here, put on your glasses."

I hand them to her and she slips them on.  "Oh, I see it now!" she exclaims.  "It's like one of those paintings that you have to stare at a funny way until you see the picture."

"No, it's actually nothing like that," I say, wheeling her into the bathroom.

After getting her situated in there, I get to work on straightening out her room.  I make her bed the way she likes it, and throw away all the crumpled tissues she has stashed everywhere.
  Gross.

It's weird how easily I fall back into my old work routine.  I get all my residents down to breakfast, then before I know it, it's after lunch
,
and time for shift change.  I stay for a few extra minutes to catch up with the mid-shift girls, and then I'm clocking out and on my way home.

That went good!  I'm not even tired.  I can't wait to have a nice long soak in the tub, and then eat something.  A
whole cake, maybe.  I'm so hungry
!
  All that running around.

I check the garage like usual
to see if Zane's home, but his car isn’t
there.  If that's
disappointment I'm feeling, I do my best to ignore it.

As soon as I get in the house, I grab some clothes, my ear buds, and some candles and make a beeline straight for the bathroom.

I really need a relaxing bath right now.  I quickly peel off my yucky scrubs and start the bath.  While it's running, I light the candles and turn off the lights.  The sound of running water and the flickering lights makes me feel calm and spiritual, like I should have a dagger and an altar, or something.

Pretending that I'm a virgin sacrifice drowning myself in the waters of purity, I step delicately into the tub.

Aaah.
 

My whole body
sighs
in happiness as I sink into the hot water.  The jets are all fired up, vanilla candles wafting their vanilla-
ness
...heaven.  I pop my
ear buds
in and play some Aiden Cross on my phone.

I guess I drift off for a bit.  The next thing I k
now, I'm blinking my eyes open
and stretching languidly in the
now cool
water, completely relaxed.

That was great!  I climb out of the tub and my stomach growls fiercely.  Right, time to eat.  I towel off and slip on a long white sundress, then I clean up after myself.  Wouldn't want Zane to think I'm a big slob.  I gather
my things, open the door, and—

Aaaaaaughh
!

The first thing I see
is a naked chick
,
crawling around on Zane's bed. 

It's not Natassia this time, it's some blonde chick, according to my shock-filled eyes.

I'm rooted to the spot.  The naked blonde girl notices me standing there and screams, grabbing a sheet to cover herself with.  Zane is lying on his bed, fully clothed, hands tucked
behind
his head in a casual position.

"Hey," he says, turning his head to look at me.  "I didn't know you were home."

He says this so calmly
!

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry!" I blurt out, clapping a hand over my mouth.  "I swear, I had no idea you were home!  I was just taking a bath with candles, and I had my music on, and I think I fell asleep—ear buds…"

"No worries," Zane says with his half-smile.
"Violet, this is Anna.  Anna—m
y roommate, Violet."

"Hi."  I wave lamely, trying desperately to imagine her completely dressed.

Quick—I
need to say something to
her to
diffuse this awkward situation!

"Um...nice ass!"

Not that, though.

"Oh, god, I didn't mean that!" 

Naked Girl stares at me, morti
fied.  She crosses her arms over
her chest, and angles her body aw
ay from me—l
ike I'm some kind of peeper!

"I was just trying to make conversation.  I didn't mean it, like, sexually," I babble, making it worse.  "It was just an observation.  Yeah, I'm gonna...go.  Now.  Okay."

I stare down at the ground and make a run for it.  I don't stop until I reach my room.  I throw myself on my bed, facedown, and order myself not to move  as punishment for gross stupidity.

Maybe twenty minutes later—or an hour—t
here is a knock on my door.  I don't answer, but someone comes in, anyway.

Zane.  I could sense his presence in the pitch dark.

"Hey," he says, and I feel a tug on my foot.  "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I say into the mattress.  "Thanks for checking.  Bye."

The bed dips down from a sudden weight.  Holy crap!   Zane is sitting on my bed!

I flip over and scramble into a sitting position, scooting away from him like he's fire.

Never in a thousand years would I have dreamed of someone as gorgeous as Zane sitting on my bed.  Ever.

I lock my arms around my knees and peek up at his smiling fa
ce.   "I'm really sorry about—w
hat happened.  I had no idea..."

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," he says.  "I should
n't be bringing my dates home.  N
ot while you're staying with me.  I put you in an awkward situation, and I apologize for it."

I shake my head.  "No, it's your place and I'm the one that intruded.  And I'm not a little kid,"  I point out.  "If you want to bring a different girl
home
every night, go for it.  Maybe we could work out some kind of system...I could put a sock on the bathroom door
when I’m using it
, or something."

Zane starts chuckling as he rubs his chin.  "
Hey. 
I wouldn't say I'm with a different girl
every
night."

"Right" I roll my eyes.  "I've been here almost a week, and s
o far I've seen you with five—no, Naked Girl makes six—d
ifferent girls."

"Yeah, well, I like variety."  He shrugs adorably.

"Really?  Because they all seem kind of interchangeable."

"And by interchangeable, you're saying...?"

"They were all slutty.  And dumb."

Zane bursts out laughing.  He reaches over and taps my knee.  "Hey, Anna is a Yale grad."

I don't say anything.  The spot where he touched is still tingling.  I struggle to keep a neutral expression.

Zane grins and nudges me again.  "She does have a nice ass, though."

"Oh, god!"  I groan, dropping my head into my knees.  "I can't believe I said that!  I should go apologize."

"You'll have to catch her on the road.  She's on her way back to L.A. right now."

My head shoots up.  "Because of what I said?  I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your date!"

"Nah, forget it,"  he reassures me, waving it away.  "It was me she was pissed at."

I frown slightly. "You?  Why?"

Zane glances at me sideways, eyes crinkling in amusement.  "After you left, I wouldn't stop laughing."

"Oh," I say.  “Umm…”

Helplessly,
I start laughing and he joins in.  We chuckle together for a few seconds.  In that moment, I can literally feel my little crush on Zane grow exponentially.

So not good.

He stands up and arches his back, stretching.  I try not to notice how
his gray shirt molds to his stomach
to show off his ripped abs.

"You wanna get something to eat?" he asks, looking down at me.  "
My treat. 
You can tell me all about how work was."

I should have said no
, made up some kind of excuse—I
'm too tired, or something.  Because I could sense the danger of remaining in his presence, the overwhelming temptation to say yes to him. 

I'm balancing on the edge of something here, and when I agree to go with Zane, I can feel myself falling...

******

Chapter 10

We go in his sleek gray car.  I don'
t know what kind of car it is—I
don't care about that ki
nd of thing—b
ut it's totally luxurious.  I sink into the seat and inhale the heady scent of leather and rich boy.  Th
e ride is ridiculously smooth.  N
ot
anything
like my old Toyota, where you can feel every bump on the road. 

And even the way Zane drives is sexy, the casual confident way he leans back in the seat, one hand on the steering wheel.  In control.  Hot.

I have to admit, I'm not immune to these superficial pleasures.  Riding in this i
ncredible car with this amazing-looking guy, I kind of feel
like a celebrity.  It's a glamorous decadent sensation.  I could totally live like this.  We cruise along, listening to a classic rock station, smiling at each other, and talking about what kind of music we like.  Zane says he listens to old rock, like Metallica and Led Zeppelin; I tell him I like mostly anything, from song
s in the Top 100, to
Broadway musicals.  He doesn’t even make f
un of me for liking the
McPigs
,
a folksy little
L.A.
band.  I play one of their quirkier songs for him on my phone, and he asks to hear more.

We end up at a cool little restaurant right across the street from the beach.  It's decorated to lo
ok like an old beach house, with bright yellow shutters. 
I love the circle windows everywhere.

"This place has the best cinnamon rolls," Zane says as I slide into the booth.  He waits until I'm seated, then sits on the other side.

"Really?  How's their clam chowder?"  I pick up one of the colorful menus and look it over.

Yikes!  Their prices are crazy!  Over tw
enty bucks for a dinner plate—p
lease!