Macy’s Awakening (3 page)

“Hi, Pam.”

“Beautiful day out there, isn’t it?” She leaned forward, presenting him with a view of her freckled cleavage. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Perfect.”

“You got any fun plans for the day?” Her gaze moved dismissively over Macy once more, moved on, then lit on the tampons. Now she stared directly at Macy in a downright hostile way.

Macy stuck out her chin and stared back. What was this woman’s problem? She had every right to be here with Jerrod, buying her stuff.

“Thought we’d check out the blues festival later.” He seemed oblivious to what was going on around him.

“Ooh, sounds like fun. Wish I could go this year, but I’m on the late shift all weekend. That’ll be eighty-seven, fifty-two.” With one more malevolent glance at her, Pam took his debit card and ran it through, gave him his receipt, and greeted the next customer in line.

Could he really be as innocent as he seemed? The woman had practically drooled all over their groceries. As they left the store, Macy considered asking him about her, but then thought better of it. It was none of her business whether he was interested in the blonde checker with the big boobs. But she couldn’t help feeling a little sense of satisfaction at Pam’s reaction, maybe even a little possessive. It wasn’t all
that
unbelievable that she and Jerrod Preston could be a couple—was it?

Did they
look
like a couple?

She glanced back at their reflection in the store window as they walked away. Tall, hot-looking, rich white man. Pretty, petite, young black girl. In a liberal city like Portland, interracial couples were no big deal. Even the age gap would only raise eyebrows in the more conservative parts of town. It gave her an exciting little thrill that Blondie-Pam might have jumped to the wrong conclusion about her.

“Sorry about that,” he said as they got into the car.

“About what?”

“That woman, Pam. She’s been trying to get me to ask her out ever since Arlene and I split up. I’m afraid you got the brunt of her disappointment.”

“No problem.” So he
had
noticed. A shiver went through her. The man was very good at playing things close to the chest. That must be useful in a court of law.

He started the car and backed out.

“How long have you been divorced?” It was none of her business, but for some reason now she wanted to know.

“About a year.” He didn’t seem perturbed by her curiosity.

“It must be hard if you have kids.”

“Yeah, that’s the worst part. Usually I see my daughter Allie every other weekend, but she’s away at horse camp all this summer.”

She thought she could hear an edge of pain in his voice. He must be a good father. She felt a little sorry for Jerrod Preston and his broken family. She wondered how Allie felt about not getting to be with her dad.

She tried to imagine what it was going to be like to be away from her own dad for the next few weeks. They’d never been apart for more than one night. Now she probably wouldn’t see him again until her trial, and that was seven weeks away. A hard lump formed in her throat and she swallowed several times, forcing it down.

This is no time to act like a child.

Back at the house, Macy put her own items in a separate bag to go out to the apartment and then helped him put away the groceries he’d bought. He showed her where all the staples and cookware were kept. As they moved about the kitchen together, opening and closing cupboards and drawers, their paths suddenly collided in front of the refrigerator. The bags of lettuce she held made a dive for the floor and Jerrod grabbed for them at the same time she did. His fingers clamped on to her arm as their bodies crashed together, breasts to chest. They both went still.

Mmm.
His chest and abs were rock-hard. She caught his warm man smell, the tiniest hint of nice cologne, then she giggled and backed away.

He wasn’t laughing. In fact his eyes were so intense she drew back further and covered her mouth with her hand. His jaw worked and his lips closed into a tight line. Was there something he wanted to say? Was it something she wanted to hear?

“Macy, I—”

“Excuse me,” she managed, her face feeling hot. “I’ll go put my own stuff away now.”

Seizing her chance to escape, she grabbed her grocery bag and headed out the back door and through the garden. In the daylight, the yard was lush and welcoming, with sun rays filtering through the cool mist coming off the fountain. She hardly noticed this as she went up the stairs to her room. Her heart was pounding something fierce and that odd fluttery feeling had come back to her belly.

Quickly she stashed her yogurt and cheese in the small fridge. Then she flopped down on the bed and tried to calm her racing pulse.

As her breathing slowed she began to notice other things. Her nipples were tingly and hard. She had never worn a bra with the yellow sun dress before. Maybe she ought to. The fabric seemed to be rubbing against her flesh in an irritating way.

But even as she tried to blame those sensations on the friction of her dress, Macy realized that her panties were damp too, and the place between her thighs felt warm and engorged.

Her
pussy
.

Sitting alone in the sun-filled room, she felt a hot flush move up her chest. She
never
used words like that, even in her own private thoughts. And certainly not about her own body. But for some reason today, that seemed like the right word to use.

My pussy.

God!

Face it, girl. Jerrod Preston makes you hot.

The thought was so clear, she could almost imagine her best friend Leticia sitting right here beside her, wagging her finger and grinning from ear to ear. Leticia knew her better than anybody.

God, she’d give anything for her cellphone right about now. But it had disappeared at some point yesterday when the officers were going through her bag. They had said something about it being evidence.

An hour later, after a cooling shower, Macy sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her favorite scented lotion onto her legs and arms. She had just about decided that she would put on fresh clothes and go back downstairs. She was being pretty silly, wasn’t she, hiding up here in her room? Jerrod Preston was the same age as her dad, handsome and rich. He certainly wouldn’t be interested in a plain girl her age. He probably had a dozen sophisticated older women he was hooking up with. She had over reacted to the press of his hard body against hers, that’s all.

Besides, he was her attorney. Weren’t there rules about clients and attorneys getting too friendly?

As soon as she opened her door, she caught the wonderful smell of some kind of grilling meat. Looking down into the walled garden, she spotted Jerrod lounging in one of the Adirondack chairs with a long fork in one hand and a manila file folder in the other. Next to him, fragrant smoke rose from a black, domed barbeque.

“That smells good,” she called out as she came down the stairs.

“Pork chops with a spicy apricot sauce.” He grinned. Mirrored sunglasses masked his eyes.

“Yummy.”

She took a seat in the shade a few feet away. A pitcher of iced lemonade and an empty glass sat on a low table nearby. She poured a glass full, taking her time, trying to gauge if anything had changed between them since their collision in the kitchen. But he seemed friendly and unconcerned. If anything, he was distracted by the contents of the file. Finally he closed it and set it on the table.

“I was just going over the police report again. While you were upstairs I had a call from my man Jeff. He’s in the process now of viewing copies of surveillance videos from adjacent businesses and obtaining eyewitness statements. It’s too soon to tell anything.”

Her belly clenched into a hard knot. She’d almost managed to forget why she was here.

“I didn’t realize there were any eyewitnesses.”

“A couple of shoppers say they saw it all, plus the manager of the gift shop across from the jewelry store.”

“But what was there to see? I was just walking past, doing my own thing. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He was silent, studying her face.

“I know,” he said finally. And she had a feeling that he
did
know. About the feeling of helpless fear that grabbed her whenever she imagined what might happen next. About how awful that night in jail had been. About how hard it was to be three hundred miles from home, no family or friends.

“The detectives are going to want you to come in again for further questioning. They may put you into a lineup for some of those eyewitnesses. It’s best if we expect that.”

“I’m scared.” She hadn’t meant for her voice to quiver like that.

He got up and came across the patio. Hunkering down beside her chair, he took off his sunglasses. His eyes sought hers. She saw again how clear they were, how deep-sea blue. Her heart began to bang against her breastbone as he held her gaze.

“It’ll be okay, Macy. You’ll see. It won’t be like your arraignment yesterday. I’ll be right there with you the whole time. Stop worrying now or you won’t be able to enjoy this delicious lunch I’ve made for us.” His hand grasped her shoulder for a moment, and then he rose and went into the house.

After he left, she took a deep breath and ran her fingers back through her hair, shaking it loose. She’d been right to come back down, to trust him. The man was just trying to be helpful. Whatever had passed between them earlier in the kitchen must have been all in her head.

And other parts of her body.

Chapter 3

“I wanted to thank you again for letting me use your laptop. It really helped to be able to check my email and Facebook, say hi to my friends.” Macy smiled up at Jerrod.

“You’re welcome. I should have thought of it earlier.”

“I would have brought my own laptop along, but it’s in the repair shop.”

“Ah. Here we are.” He pointed ahead.

They rounded the corner of the parking garage and were now facing the river. Two blocks away, on a wide strip of grass next to the seawall, she could see throngs of people moving between a dozen small white tents and a portable stage. Snatches of music drifted on the night air, and the mysterious smells of ethnic food made her mouth water. As they got closer she heard a voice on a loud speaker announcing the next band to play.

“Am I walking too fast for you?” He looked pointedly at her sandals.

“No. I’m fine.” She smiled.

He carried a thick, plaid blanket over his right arm, creating an effective barrier between their bodies as they made their way along the sidewalk, but she was aware again of his tall strength, his unique masculine smell. They crossed the street and found the main entrance. A guy with yellow dreadlocks checked their ID, giving Jerrod an orange wristband and her a white one, since she was under drinking age.

They wandered for a while, and then stopped at a food booth where he bought teriyaki chicken on long skewers. Leaning on the seawall, she watched the dark river while she ate her snack. He named the bridges they could see from there, alight with traffic, and pointed out several local landmarks. The whole city seemed to be alive with movement and color, with the warm night air and the sound of music and laughter.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said, resting her arms on the concrete balustrade. “Nothing like the town where I grew up.”

“Yes. Portland is an amazing little city.” But when she glanced over at him, he wasn’t looking at the view. His eyes were locked on her. Half in shadow, his face was inscrutable, but she saw his lips tighten and flex as if he wanted to say something else. Her heart skipped a beat or two, and she couldn’t maintain her gaze.

“The chicken was really good,” she finally said, holding up the empty bamboo skewer.

Now he glanced away for a moment too, then back at her.

“Would you like more?”

“No, thanks. But maybe something cold to drink.”

“All right.”

They wandered again, on the look-out now for a beverage vendor.

Suddenly a dark shape loomed up beside her. At the same time, her nose was assailed with the stench of fetid body odor and layers of stale alcohol.

“Hey, baby.” The homeless man’s speech was slurred as he gripped her arm. She stared up into his grizzled face, panic rising in a sickening wave.

“Let me go,” she cried, trying to pull away. But her voice came out like a little girl’s.

The man grinned, his yellowed teeth like broken pegs in the rotten slash of his mouth. He jerked her closer, his breath hot on her neck.

“Back off, friend.” Before the stranger could say or do anything further, Jerrod stepped in between them, freeing her arm and shielding her from the stranger’s assault. With an air of gentle authority he gripped the older man by the shoulders, pointed him in the opposite direction, and gave him a nudge. The man staggered away into the crowd.

Jerrod turned to her, his arm encircling her shoulder. He studied her face.

“I’m sorry, Macy, I should have warned you. We’re close to the homeless shelters in this part of town. Most of those folks are harmless, but it can be startling. Are you okay?”

She nodded, a tingling warmth seeping into her from the close body contact and the relief of being rescued. Adrenalin still pumped like crazy through her body. Was that why she felt so light-headed?

“Don’t let it worry you. I won’t let anything happen to you. Come on. Let’s find those drinks and then listen to some good music.”

He gave her an encouraging smile, and she found herself smiling back. The whole incident, scary as it was, had been resolved so quickly that it almost seemed now like a bad dream. She felt euphoric…and grateful. Jerrod Preston could apparently handle anything.

His arm slid away from her shoulders, but his hand closed around hers and he led her through the crowd to the food tent. A few minutes later, drinks in hand, they arrived at a spot of open grass in front of the main stage. On the platform, a five piece band was tuning up. He spread the blanket and motioned for her to sit down. Glad she’d decided to wear jeans and a t-shirt instead of the sundress, Macy sat down cross-legged and reached up to take both paper cups from him.