the Chinese restaurant and Luanne’s apartment, my ears pick up the distinct sound of alarm bells ringing. I slide out of my seat and hunch down, scanning the lot for signs of trouble. This is no time for heroics, so I use evasive measures to cross the space between me and building’s back door, weaving in and out of parked cars, keeping my head low and my eyes alert. My psychic senses are playing a game of colder-warmer with me and, as I close in on the building, the alarm bells are telling me I’m red-hot.
Lounging against the fire door on the back corner of the building is Tim. His back is to me and he’s leaning against the door with his left shoulder, the expensive fabric of his well-fitted navy suit not designed for coming into contact with aging, brown brick. His blond hair is slicked back from his face in its usual cool perfection. My forward movement comes to an immediate standstill and I have to throw my arms out on either side of me to maintain my balance. Ever so quietly, I raise my right foot and place it behind me, coming down softly on the gravely concrete. Keep it steady, girl, slow and steady.
My heart is racing, the loud thump, thump, thump echoing in my ears. I cast a cautious look at Tim to see if he can hear the deafening beats from his position against the wall, but he doesn’t move. He’s holding a bouquet of white and red roses upside down by their stems. The petals are slapping against the plastic wrapped around the bouquet as Tim bats them rhythmically against his leg. I continue my clumsy retreat backward as he raises the arm holding the flowers to check an expensive looking watch. He seems annoyed, stepping away from the building to scan the alleyway toward the street.
I take another backward step and the heel of my shoe comes down on a piece of broken glass. There’s a loud crack and the glass breaks apart under my weight, getting Tim’s attention. He turns to face me, still holding the upside down bouquet, and flashes that perfect white smile of his, the irritation from a moment before masked instantly. Damn, I was so close to getting away.
“There you are!” he calls, flicking his wrist and bringing the bouquet upward, a few of the loose petals falling to the ground.
I sigh deeply and let my outstretched arms drop, resigning them to hang limply at my sides. Tim’s wearing his favorite gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses. I remember when he bought them. It was a few months after we began dating and we were out in the city, having lunch on a sidewalk café. A woman approached our table and asked Tim if he was a movie star. I’d felt flattered at the time, to be dating such a handsome man. When he saw the sunglasses at a little kiosk in the mall later that afternoon, he laid out a cool two-hundred bucks for them. “To protect my anonymity,” he had joked. I suppose in retrospect I should’ve been hurt he hadn’t included me in his little joke. Had he been ‘recognized’ again, he probably would’ve told his adoring fans I was his personal assistant.
“Don’t be shy, come here,” he says, holding out his free hand to me.
I walk to where he’s waiting and try not to dwell on the fact that he looks flawless out in this heat, even in a suit. I, on the other hand, am wilting faster than the roses.
“Hi,” I say, cautiously. “What’s going on? What’re you doing here?”
“Can’t a guy stop by to bring a friend some flowers?”
“Tim…” I begin, exasperated by his show of fake friendship.
“Alright,” he says, removing the sunglasses and fixing sea-blue eyes on me. “I came by to apologize for the other night. I think I might’ve caught you off guard, and I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”
I fold my arms over my chest, my favorite protective stance for when he’s near, and search his face for any truth to his apology. “I appreciate that, but you shouldn’t be here and you definitely shouldn’t be bringing me flowers.”
“Ellie, c’mon. It doesn’t have to be like this between us.”
“Like what? You know, I really don’t understand you, Tim. You’re the one that chose to be with someone else. You waited almost two weeks to even call and make sure I was alright, that I had a place to stay.