EDGES Page 9

  “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” she shot back.

  “I just tell my mom I do so she won’t ask me a million questions about what I’m doing all the time. It’s a great cover.”

  Her mouth broke into a slight upturn. “Smart. Maybe I should try that.”

  “Oh, I recommend you do. You can create these larger than life cartoon characters. It really gets their parental juices flowing. I’m just kidding about the date, just so you know. A guy’s gotta find some way to have fun while he’s around a bunch of women shopping.”

  “So you don’t want to take me on a date?” she asked, now having stopped picking at the dresses.

  It almost threw him out of whack, but he gathered himself, feeling suddenly turned on by her willing to banter with him. “I don’t take girls on dates until after we’ve…”

  “After we’ve… what?”

  “Until after we’ve… both graduated from high school.”

  She laughed, then seemed shocked that he’d drawn it out of her.

  Patrick circled around the rack and positioned himself next to her. She glanced over at him and stiffened, a hint of discomfort at his being so close, which he enjoyed. He’d made a dent in her armor.

  He motioned down at her necklace. “I like your necklace. I have one that’s very similar, except instead of lightning it has thunder on the end of it.”

  “Really?” she reached down, genuinely intrigued, and fingered the necklace.

  “Really,” he said and started laughing.

  “Very funny,” she said, “you got me.”

  “No seriously, it’s really cool. I’d show it to you, but I left it at home.”

  She slapped him on the arm in a playful way. “You’re a jerk.”

  “I know. I used to be a total asshole, but I’ve changed. Now I’m just a jerk. So I’m improving, at least.”

  She held up her dark, sleek eyebrows with surprised interest. “I think you’re a liar.”

  He took a step back. “Ask me anything then, and I’ll tell the truth.”

  She crossed her arms and tapped at her chin, mocking a pose of deep contemplation. “Have you ever lied to sleep with a girl?”

  “Once,” he said. “I told her I had a small dick.”

  Reagan shook her head, her mouth opening in shock.

  “Bad, I know.”

  “I still think you’re lying, but okay, fine. One more question.”

  “Shoot.”

  Reagan said the words slowly and deliberately. “What do you think when you look at me?”

  Patrick made his own mocked pose of deep contemplation, and then scratched at his hair. “You really want to know?”

  She nodded. “Just don’t lie.”

  He exhaled in a mighty heave. “You know how to dress to highlight your sexuality. To me this means that you know you’re attractive, and of course you have guys trying to get into your pants every day. But… you don’t let them. Why? I’m not sure. Your mother mentioned something about an alcohol problem, which means you probably hang out with a crowd that expects you to party. And that usually means a good deal of hooking up and so on. But your personality is so prickly, my guess is guys can’t get through to you, and most probably assume it’s not worth the trouble of dealing with your bitchiness. That leads me to think that you had somebody, someone you loved. But he burned you, took your virginity I bet, and then dumped you. Maybe an older guy who went off to college and left you high and dry.”

  She remained silent, hazel eyes taut on him.

  “So you act tough because you don’t want to be hurt again, you probably just want to live long enough so you can escape Durango and go to college to start over. No sense in getting involved with anyone else at this point. How am I doing?”

  She shrugged, maintaining her steeliness.

  “The one thing I can’t figure out…” He reached out and plucked the lightning bolt up off the ridges of her breasts with his fingers, which made her jump a little. “… Is this. A lightning bolt. Could just be a cool necklace that you bought online. But I call bullshit. It looks expensive. I think it means something important to you. The way you seemed excited when I said I had a similar necklace, which means—well, who knows, really.” He stopped and looked at her. “Did I offend you with all that?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Was I wrong about anything?”

  “Everything. And nothing. But I dunno, I’m not the one who promised to tell the truth.”

  “Well let me ask you one question then, one where you have to tell the truth. It’s only fair.”

  She looked across the boutique and Patrick followed her eyes. She was eyeing their mothers, who were enraptured with a glittering earring turnstile. He reached out and grabbed her hand. It snapped her attention back and after a moment that carried on a little too long she slithered her hand out of his.

  “Fine. I’ll answer one,” she said. “But only one.”

  He nodded and there was a long pause of silence. “Do you trust me?”

  Her face lit up, laughing. “That’s your question: do I trust you?”

  “It’s a simple question.”

  She looked Patrick over. He was enjoying this game so very much.

  “Yeah, I think I trust you.”

  “C’mon,” he said. “Yes or no.”

  “Okay, yes! Yes, I trust you,” she replied firmly, nodding her head.

  Patrick turned around, took a few steps, and then craned his neck to look back over his shoulder at her as he walked away. “You shouldn’t.”

  ***

  Patrick left the boutique with Reagan’s number. She had his too. He had no idea what would become of it, probably nothing in the long run. But he felt high. More important than the ego gratification was the sense that they’d really connected. It was the purest thing on earth, being able to share a moment with a beautiful girl. It was his drug of choice.

  Outside, he gave Gwendolyn a hug and then she moved aside to hug his mother. Reagan was standing there, still as a mannequin. “Should we hug?” he asked her.

  She shrugged.

  He stepped forward and put his arms around her for a nice full embrace.

  “One more lying question,” she said, in a low whisper.

  “Okay,” he whispered back, still hugging her.

  “Are you going to call me?”

  He sighed. “I want to, I really do. But I don’t think I should.”

  When they pulled away from each other, there was a slight dulling in her eyes, as if she’d been hurt by his candor. He was surprised. And now seeing that he could inflict it, it almost hurt him to see the disappointment on her face. But like the soldier she was, she quickly put back on her proverbial armor and turned back to her mom.

  “Well, we had a lot of fun,” Theresa said.

  Gwenda nodded. “Yes, it was great. Call me for the graduation thing. We’ll set it up.”

  They started walking in different directions, but as Patrick turned to leave he kept his eyes on Reagan. He wanted to watch her walk away. Wanted to remember the moment completely. After all, there was a good chance he wouldn’t call. Reagan looked back at him over her shoulder, stuck her tongue out, and then smiled big for him. His heart jumped.

  Patrick walked a few blocks with his Mom. The whole time he felt a tingling sensation in his bones. Something he hadn’t felt in years. He couldn’t get this girl out of his head. They went into one more shop to look at hiking boots. He told his mom he didn’t need any, but she pushed that surely he wanted to do some hiking over the summer. He told her thank you but no, and that she should save her money, and they went back out onto the street. They said their goodbyes. His mom was going to go back to her hotel to shower. He told her he needed to do the same, but they agreed to meet for a late dinner. She offered a ride home, but he insisted on walking.

  On his own finally, his desire to walk turned into a desire to grab a beer somewhere. He started off back in the direction of the boutique with a bou
nce in his step and all-permeating smile across his face. There was a bar about a block past it. Almost back to the boutique, he heard someone call his name out. It came from across the street. He craned his neck in the direction of the voice. It was… Mallory? Teddy’s fiancée?

  Patrick waited for some cars to pass and then jogged across the street to meet her. She initiated it, so he followed through in giving her an easy hug, very polite. She asked what he was doing, and he asked her the same.

  “I just got off work.”

  “At three?” he asked, checking his phone.

  “It’s weird, I know. Once every two weeks I do a five hour shift and me and Teddy carpool.”

  “That’s nice.”

  Her hair shined a delicious bright auburn in the glancing sunlight. “It is nice. Except that Teddy gets off an hour after I do. I always have to wait around.”

  Patrick nodded. “So you’re just going to go wait at the office?”

  “No, I’ll head over there after a while, but not yet.” She reached into her purse and showed him a book she was reading. “I usually find a bench along Main and hang out. It’s actually kind of relaxing most days.”

  “But it’s getting cold,” he said. “You’d be better off inside. Come with me. I’m getting a quick beer before I go back to my place.”

  She let the book sink back into the depths of her purse and then hitched it back onto her shoulder while shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You can read your book if you want. I just want some company. Besides, it’d be good to get to know you a little. Teddy’s always so protective I don’t even get to really talk to you.”

  “He’s not usually so protective. Just when you’re around.”

  “Well that’s just silly, Mallory, you’re not even my type. C’mon.” He reached out and took her hand. Falconburgh’s was only a block away so he simply started walking, towing her along like a child.

  “Uh, wait, uh, all right, all right.” She trotted to keep up.

  A sharp, cool breeze kicked up and it was a relief to get in off the street into the warm, open entry of the bar. Mallory rubbed her hands together to warm them. She stopped at the head of the stairs that led to the basement pub, staring down them with trepidation, as if contemplating her descent into a forbidden lair.

  “Teddy wouldn’t like to hear about this.”

  “Then he won’t hear about it,” Patrick reassured her. He trotted down the first two steps, then looked up.

  “I know you’re about to get married, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have any friends, right?”

  “No,” she said, sounding offended, “of course I can have friends.”

  “So have a beer with a friend. What’s the issue?”

  Patrick didn’t like the way the stress weighed on her whole body. If he could just get her down to the bar, she would relax. It was almost saddening to see the hold of guilt that Teddy had over her.

  “One beer, and then I really have to go, Patrick. And you can’t tell Teddy. I know how he’ll react.”

  “Teddy barely talks to me. And there’s nothing to tell him.”

  She pointed her toes and took the first step down the brick-lined stairwell. She held onto the brass railing like she were afraid of ice breaking beneath her feet. Patrick walked the rest of the way down and took a deep breath upon reaching the bottom. He turned back and watched her follow until she reached the bottom too. He smiled at her, and she smiled back hesitantly.

  Mallory

  MALLORY PAUSED AS SHE AND Patrick reached a row of unoccupied high bar chairs beneath a gorgeous wide arch of bricks. Ivy patches nestled in the crooks where the ceiling met supporting brick pillars. She slung her purse onto the steel back of her chair and gazed around the bar to make sure there was no one she knew lurking about. She didn’t want to be seen down here with him. She didn’t know much more than what Teddy had warned her about, but if what he said had been true, there most certainly would be a connotation to being seen having drinks with Patrick Finch.

  She didn’t see anyone she recognized. She sat down on the high chair and rested her elbows on the bar.

  “You look flushed,” Patrick said, taking his seat next to her.

  “Ya think?” she said.

  He didn’t reply to that. Didn’t need to for her to realize how unnecessarily bitchy she was being. It was, after all, just a beer. If anyone did say something to Teddy, she could just say she was down here already, and Patrick had stumbled down from the street. Why was she so worried? Was it because of what she was doing, or with whom she was doing it? She decided it was the latter.

  She sat there, rubbing her hairline in nervous fits as if it were wrong to be doing this.

  “I saw my Mom today,” Patrick said.

  A little surprised at the jump into normal conversation, Mallory smiled. “Really? Does she live in town?”

  “No. Denver.”

  “So you’re from Denver.”

  “Mom lives in Denver now. I was born in Aspen, then lived in Arizona. I grew up in Denver mostly. You?”

  “I’m from California.”

  He drummed his hands on the bar. “Fancy.” He smiled.

  There was that smile. Mallory looked away, and asked herself, once again, what the hell she was doing down here with this guy.

  “Did you move here for Teddy?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “Uh, no. I was going to move back to San Diego right after college, but I didn’t for some reason. I think I just wanted to stay one more summer. That’s when I met Teddy.”

  “And love struck?”

  “Something like that.”

  He nodded, and she figured he could tell that she didn’t want to talk about her relationship with Teddy because he swiftly changed the topic. “So what book are you reading?”

  She dug it out of her purse and showed it to him. He leaned over to look at the cover. “Interesting, what’s it about?”

  “It’s set in the future, a dystopian book, about this brother and sister who are on the run, hiking through the Rockies to keep from being forced to join the militarized police force that has evolved in America, and they cross paths with a wealthy scientist who gives them this spiky, alien-looking creature in a jar that glows. That’s what I’ve read so far, anyway.”

  He blinked. “Interesting,” he said again. Then he smiled. “I took you for a trashy romance type of girl.”

  “You took me wrong.”

  “I’m glad.” He said hello to the bartender as she approached, and then returned his attention to Mallory. “I appreciate when girls don’t fit the mold.”

  Patrick ordered immediately. Mallory faltered, not able to choose from the dozens and dozens of beers on tap. The bartender also offered some input. In the end, she ordered a martini.

  “I guess you do fit the mold,” he said, playfully.

  “I usually stick to wine, but if I’m already going to be down here with you I might as well.”

  He pulled his fingers backward through his hair. “Most women don’t have to have a stiff drink in order to be in my company.”

  “Most women aren’t getting married in a few months.” She stared at him and they both laughed. “I’m joking. Truth is, I need to lighten up. I’m glad you convinced me to come down here. I’ve been so tightly wound lately, and I’m not really sure why.”

  “I think it’s because you don’t trust yourself. And what woman would when they are just a few months away from being taken for the rest of their child-bearing years?”

  The bartender returned with their drinks.

  Mallory’s jaw was still jutted out in disbelief, insulted, but Patrick took his first sip as casually as if they were discussing the weather.

  She finally found her tongue. “You have a lot of nerve saying things like that.”

  “It doesn’t take nerve to tell the truth,” he retorted. “It takes nerve to conceal it when it’s already obvious to everyone.”

  She shook
her head, and a laugh almost squeaked out of her, but the layer of insult, still lying heavy on her, kept it sealed in. “You don’t waste any time warming a girl up, do you?”

  “No, they’re usually already warm by the time I’ve begun.”

  “Teddy was right about you. You are slimy.”

  “Is that what he said?”

  She nodded, watching him to see if her words had any effect on him.

  He shrugged and sipped his beer again. “I figure, if girls thought I didn’t have any flaws, they’d find me too intimidating.”

  “Why are you so full of yourself?”

  “Because it’s better to be full of myself than to be scared of myself, like you are.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What,” he leaned back and swiveled toward her, “you can sit there and insult me, but you can’t handle it when it’s redirected your way?”

  “I’m not scared of myself. That’s ridiculous!”

  “I learned in my psych class that we only emotionally oppose things that we know, either consciously or unconsciously, have taken harbor deep within ourselves. Sides of us we’re secretly afraid of.”

  “I stopped listening halfway through that sentence.”

  “You were scared to come down here with me. If I had been a girlfriend of yours, would you be feeling as guilty right now?”

  “I’d feel guilty with any man, not just you. And who am I kidding, you’re practically a kid still.”

  “And you’re practically fat.”

  “See,” Mallory yanked her purse off the chair in a fury, “you are a fucking child!”

  She hurtled from her seat and was nearly out of reach when he grasped her wrist. “Hey, hey. I’m sorry. Really. That was stupid and uncalled for.”

  “It was a mistake coming down here,” she replied, shoving his hand off her wrist.

  “It doesn’t have to be. C’mon, sit down. I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  “It’s too late.”

  He leaned over the back of his chair and took her hand again. This time, his gentle touch sent shivers through her body. The look of exposure in his eyes was the most clearly she’d ever seen into his real persona.