Kiss Me If You Dare

26

Brad’s personal bodyguard opened the door.

“Hi, Austin,” I said, praying Brad hadn’t told him about the kiss yesterday.

“The crazy college chick. What do you want?” Austin kept his fit and trim physique between me and my goal as he looked into the hall behind me. “No Mr. Russo today?”

I shook my head, struggling with my box and bag. “I’m about to drop this stuff. Can you get the door for me?” “No can do. You can’t come in.”

Sighing, I put on a weary voice. “Look. I know I upset Brad yesterday. I brought him lunch to make it up.”

Austin sniffed the air. “Sam’s Coney Deluxe. That’s Mr. Walters’ favorite.”

“I know.” I took a step forward, edging into the opening. He cut me off at the pass. “Sorry, no visitors.”

“Come on. I’d like another chance to talk to Mr. Walters.” I rocked the aromatic bag of Coneys under his nose and spoke in a singsong voice. “I brought him food.”

Austin grabbed the bag off my larger package. “I’ll tell him it’s from you.” He started to close the door.

“Give that back.” I slapped at the paper, missing. “That’s my lunch too.”

“Sorry, no visitors.” The bag disappeared and the door was almost closed.

“Who’s here, Austin?” a voice boomed from the bedroom. “Hey!” I yelled through the crack. “Brad! It’s me! I brought you a Coney Deluxe.”

Austin slammed the door in my face.

I stood there, the toe of one shoe wedged against the threshold. Brad had to realize it was me, Tish, come back to life. Any moment Austin would open the door and usher me inside. I waited, listening. When Austin didn’t return, I rested the clock on one hip and stuck an ear to the door.

The rustling of a paper bag.

I jiggled the doorknob. Locked.

My fists hit the wood. “Hey! Open up! That’s my lunch! Hey!” I kept pounding, determined not to stop until Austin opened the door.

Down the hall, a head poked out of a doorway.

“Excuse me, miss,” an elderly gentleman said with a missing-denture lisp. “M*A*S*H is on. I can’t watch it with all that racket. Makes a rumble in my hearing aid.”

I held my hand suspended mid-thud. What was I doing? Standing in an old folks’ home pounding on doors was definitely low-class.

“Sorry.” I gave a little wave. The head disappeared.

I turned back to my task. I was not leaving here without seeing Brad.

Tapping a finger softly on the door, I spoke through the wood. “Come on. I promise I won’t upset him today. Anyway, you have to open up. I have a present for him.”

Silence. He probably couldn’t answer because his mouth was full of that special sauce with meat and beans and topped with onions… My stomach growled.

“Fine. Give me back my lunch and I’ll go away.”

Still no answer. Maybe he was back sharing the spoils with Brad.

A building attendant passed by in the narrow hall. “Can I help you with something?” the man asked.

“Ahhh…” I wiped the guilty look off my face. I had every right to be here. More than every right. “I seem to have been locked out. Could you show me where I can find a phone?”

The man in navy coveralls walked me to the lounge and pointed to a phone on a decorative desk. “Local calls only unless you have a calling card.”

“Thanks.” I put the clock down and sat in the straightback chair. I opened the long top drawer of the desk. A phone book. Just the thing.

I flipped through the Ws. No Brad Walters. But one listing read Walters-Russo, Samantha. Instead of a Port Silvan prefix, it had the Manistique exchange. That had to be Brad’s number at River’s Edge.

I dialed it.

“This is Austin,” came the voice.

“Austin. Hi. It’s the crazy college chick. Open the door, okay? I really need to talk to Brad.”

Click.

I dialed the number again. It rang once, picked up, and slammed in my ear.

I dialed again-and this time got a busy signal.

The receiver dangled from my hand, its beep beep beep audible throughout the lounge.

“What’s the matter, dear, he’s not taking your call?”

I looked toward the gentle voice. A woman with a wizened face sat in a corner by a window, the various shades of pink in her clothing allowing her to blend with the general décor. No wonder I hadn’t noticed her earlier. Gray hair swirled in perfectly round curls atop her head. It had to be a wig. I touched my own masterpiece, suddenly conscious of how foolish I must look.

I smiled and turned away, avoiding conversation. The pages of the phone book fluttered under my fingers as I delved for the secret to visiting Brad.

The voice interrupted my thoughts again. “Perhaps I could help.”

The sweet old lady apparently couldn’t take a hint.

I waved a hand and nodded. “I’m fine, really. Thanks anyway.”

Back to the pages of phone numbers. I could call Puppa and get him to come out. Or call Sam and bawl her out. No. There had to be a better, faster way of getting in there.

Movement in the corner of my eye. I glanced up. The old gal had moved to the chair closest to me.

She leaned forward and spoke in a scheming voice. “I happen to know Austin runs errands for that Walters fellow between two and three o’clock.”

My brows shot up. “Really.” How did the spry old gal know what I was up to?

She gave my leg a firm pat. “They keep him locked up in there like a prisoner. No visitors outside of family, they tell us. And he never comes out. Never.” She tsked her show of disapproval. “Not even for Bingo. I say that poor young man needs some excitement.” She looked me up and down. “And you seem like the exciting type.”

Good heavens. Was the old woman trying to set Brad up on a date? As Brad’s onetime almost-bride-to-be, I was mortified that Ms. Matchmaker was on the job in the lobby. Brad did not need excitement. He needed me.

That being the case, how could I pass up this opportunity to see Brad? All I needed was a way to get inside once Austin left.

Another pat on the leg. “I have a plan,” the old gal whispered and crooked her finger. “Follow me.”

The clock in the box chimed and sang its soulful melody from its place on the table in the woman’s apartment, two doors down from Brad’s.

“Patience,” my cohort advised. “Give Austin a few minutes to get out the door.”

The saucy gal’s name was Ruby Callahan and she’d been a resident of the building for some time, she’d told me.

“Not often we get youngsters like that Mr. Walters in here. Shame about him, isn’t it?” She leaned toward me on the plain ivory sofa and checked her watch. “It’s time.” She gave a nod toward her adjoining bedroom.

I snuck into the room and hid behind the door, listening for my cue.

The sound of humming… the main door to the hallway opening… Ruby’s voice of fake surprise.

“Why, Austin. Just the man I’m looking for. Remember that magazine I lent you? With the article about finding the perfect mate? I have someone else in need of it and I must have it back, please. Snip snap.”

“Just heading out, Mrs. C. How about I grab that for you when I get back and drop it by?”

“That’ll never do. You promised to return it last week.”

A sigh. “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

“Nonsense. I’ll come with you.”

A few minutes passed with no voices. Then a perky, “Thank you, thank you. The young woman will be thrilled. Thirty-four and she’s never been married, poor dear.”

“You’re welcome. Talk to you later.” Austin’s exasperated voice disappeared down the hall.

“Coast is clear,” Ruby said a moment later.

I stepped into the hall. “Now what?”

“Door’s unlocked,” she said with a sly grin. “Just make sure you fasten it when you leave.”

“Thanks.” My heart fluttered with excitement as I headed down the corridor, clock in hand, to Brad’s apartment.

I gripped the knob, half expecting it wouldn’t turn. It did. Tiptoeing, I closed the door behind me and locked it against the meddling Ruby Callahan.

The air inside felt oppressive. Through the partially open bedroom door came the canned laughter of a television show.

In my hand, the package ticked like a bomb as I stood, hesitating. Austin could return at any moment. If I was going to do this thing, I’d better get to it.

I set the clock down on the counter, the paper scraping softly on the surface, and steeled myself.

“Austin? Is that you?” Brad’s voice spoke tentatively from the direction of the bed.

I cleared my throat. “No, Brad. It’s me. Tish.”

The door swung back under my fingertips. I stepped into his sight, taking off my wig and sunglasses, holding them in one hand while I smoothed my snarled hair with the other.

His eyes were huge, as if he were seeing a ghost.

“Hey,” I tossed my disguise on the coverlet over his feet and circled to the head of the bed. “It’s okay. It’s really me.”

I touched his hand, which lay on top of the sheet, holding its warmth in my fingers as if holding a lost pearl, now found.

“You’re… They told me you were dead.” His voice tore from his chest.

I nodded, squeezing back tears from my smile. “I know. I heard. But turns out I’m still around to haunt you.”

He looked up at the ceiling a moment, as if searching for an explanation. Then he shot a hard glance at me. “Who let you in here? I told them I didn’t want to see anyone.” The words burned. I pulled my hand away. “I’m not just anyone.”

He strained to look down over his body. “Look at me.”

I crossed my arms, running my eyes from his face to his feet. “I heard most of this is your own doing.”

“What?” His voice rumbled. “I was shot and almost killed. Nothing works anymore. You think I wouldn’t change that if I could?”

“Puppa told me you won’t even try.”

His face turned red and I could see rage build in his heaving chest. I welcomed the thought of him leaping from the bed and chasing me from the room. My mission would certainly be accomplished.

But no such miracle.

“Get out and don’t come back!” His roar almost peeled the hair off my head.

I stood my ground. “Come on,” I said in a soothing voice. “Don’t chase me away. Do you know how much I love you? How much I’ve missed you?”

“I’m not that man. He’s… dead. Gone.” He turned his face away from me. “Nothing means anything to me anymore. Including you. Leave me alone.”

The words hurt. I scrunched my face as a shield against them, but they crawled under my skin anyway and made a home somewhere a little right of my heart. The pain stole my breath.

I gasped and choked for air, trying to keep myself from melting into a pile of unwanted cells right at the foot of Brad’s bed.

“You’re all I thought about. You’re all that kept me going in Del Gloria. And you just want me to walk out of here like we had nothing?”

He gave a wild look. His neck and shoulders moved slightly as if he were trying to sit. His head flopped back to the pillow and he closed his eyes, catching his breath.

From the other room came the sound of a key being inserted into the lock.