Jim
The sound of a blaring alarm filtered into Jim’s consciousness, and he opened one eye and looked around.
It took him a moment to register his surroundings, and waking up in a strange place might have sent him into panic before, but he had dreamed of the woman a few feet away from him all night, and the dream was still somewhat fresh.
He was actually disappointed he hadn’t awakened in her bed—his dream had walked him there at some point, to his utmost pleasure.
The alarm stopped yelping, and he stayed in place, listening to Maribel shuffle around, then tried to wrestle his brain from the gutter when he heard her enter the bathroom and start the shower.
He failed miserably, imagining droplets of water on her nude, silky brown skin.
He tried hard not to imagine her completely in the buff—focusing only on an image of her lovely face turned up toward the shower spray, her eyes closed, her arms crossed over her chest.
He congratulated himself for keeping his fantasy clean.
He longed to join her and see for himself what she looked like naked, but settled for the vague fantasy.
What’s wrong with you, Jim? She’s not some piece of meat!
But Jim knew it wasn’t just a matter of sexual urges—the young woman had gotten under his skin somehow, made him curious about every part of her.
He had blabbed on so long about himself the previous night, he didn’t get a chance to know her at all.
He knew her name and that she’d just moved here from the south—that was basically it. And that she was too trusting.
Wait—he now also knew that she had simple tastes, judging by her apartment.
What else?
What was she hoping to accomplish here?
What job did she miss out on?
Did she have any brothers or sisters?
When was the last time a man had shared her bed?
Again, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head as he thought of her with someone else and he fought to contain it.
Where did he get off feeling so possessive of this kindly woman?
Why did he feel like...?
He shook his head and sat up, hoping being upright would help him think straight.
He hadn’t even figured out what his next course of action would be today.
At the moment, left up to him, there was no way he was leaving Maribel Gibson’s apartment that day or even the next; in fact, maybe he could concoct a story that would encourage her to invite him to stay for a few days.
He checked out the apartment again.
It looked even smaller in the daytime.
He realized he was being selfish; no need to crowd the young woman’s tiny space just because he hadn’t had enough of her yet.
Just one more day—then he’d risk going back to his penthouse and get out of her hair.
By then, he would have figured out what to do about Lucy and his dad and the whole mess, and sort his life out from there.
He’d send Maribel a bouquet of flowers for her hospitality and remind her to be more cautious in the greeting card accompanying it, then wish her well, leaving himself open to friendship with her.
He chuckled to himself.
Who the hell was he kidding?
One way or another, he’d keep looking in on her. And it wasn’t because he just wanted to be her friend.
“I can set up the coffee,” Jim shouted once he heard the shower turn off.
“That would be awesome,” she said once the bathroom door opened.
He resisted trying to peek at her as she left the bathroom.
She had probably taken all her clothes in there anyway, to make sure he didn’t catch her in a towel.
He slipped on his slacks then headed to the kitchen and stared at her coffee-maker for a few moments.
The thing was primitive as hell; he had forgotten how to use one like it.
Other people brought his coffee to him, and when they weren’t around, he had extra fancy machines do most of the work.
But, of course, the simpler the machine, the easier to figure out, right?
“It’s dummy-proof,” he said to himself as he filled the water.
Just in time, he realized he had forgotten the filter.
Who the hell uses this shit anymore?
“You sure you’re okay in there?” her voice called out.
“I’m nailing it!” he shouted back, almost knocking over the container of ground coffee.
“This is going to taste like shit,” he mumbled to himself, staring at the generic container. “I’m not drinking coffee-flavored sewage.”
While the coffee percolated, he wondered what he should do next.
Would she even let him stay in her home while she was gone?
No way was she that trusting.
But what else was he supposed to do?
People would be looking for him in all his usual places, the press had, no doubt, been alerted…
“Hey,” Maribel said with a smile, wearing just a bathrobe.
No makeup yet and she still looked beautiful.
“How did you sleep?”
“Fair enough,” he said honestly. “In peace, at least. It’s been great having some space from…everyone, really.”
“What do you think’s gonna happen?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“No clue. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet, and I’m still not ready to talk to anyone.”
“Well, definitely feel free to stay here, but I’m taking off for a few hours as I run around and try to get someone to hire me.”
“Listen, I might be able to help you get started with something if you’d just tell me what kind of job you’re looking for.”
“Oh, I don’t take handouts.”
“This is pretty much how the world works, luv—it’s who you know that gets you in more likely than what you know. I’m not exactly in good standing right now with my dad and perhaps his cohorts, but I’ve got my own contacts, my own thing going. I can help you out.”
“And then what would I owe you in return?” she asked, her gaze direct and full of meaning.
“Nothing,” he said gently. “I’m not expecting any kind of...repayment. Consider it me returning a favor—you have given me a place of refuge when I need it most.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” she said, looking a bit perturbed. “I wanted to help you.”
“See? Same here. Besides, it kills me to think of you running around out there as...trusting as you are. I feel like I need to tuck you in somewhere safe—for your own good.”
“Excuse you? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I’m not saying you’re not, it’s just that it disturbs me how easily you invited me over. Listen, I’ve lived here a long time, and I’m just giving you a little city boy advice: trust no one. How are you getting around, anyway?”
“Subway—like everyone else.”
“I’m serious, Maribel—keep your eyes open, hold your
belongings tight, be wary of people bumping into you, position your valuables where they can’t be grabbed or pick-pocketed, don’t hold anything for anyone—no matter how pitiful they look…”
“Wait, what do you mean?”
“Like if someone says, ‘can you hold this box/chain/whatever’ for me, the answer is always no. Otherwise, don’t be surprised if they try to make a scene and say you stole it or otherwise make you pay for it. And for god’s sake, for future reference, avoid traveling at night alone. Maribel—and I mean this quite affectionately—you just look like a victim.”
He grinned at her tightened expression.
“I knew you’d get mad, but I’m being honest—you look out-of-place, no matter how much you think you’re blending in. You’re clearly a visitor, a tourist, and therefore, you look like an easy target. Please don’t be insulted—I’m just giving you a quick rundown because if you’re going to survive out here, you need to develop some survival techniques. Street smarts. You’re not skilled in martial arts, by chance, are you?”
She let out quick laughter as she shook her head.
Relief washed over him that she was no longer on the defense.
“Look, I’m sorry if it seems like I’m coming down hard on you, but it’s from a place of genuine concern. You seem sweet, you’ve been kind to me; therefore, I like you, and I’d hate for you to get hurt in any way. I’m just doing what I can to help you out since you won’t let me place you in an office somewhere.”
She giggled.
“Please don’t make light, Maribel.”
Her smile looked less mocking, but her eyes still sparkled as she said, “You can call me Mari.”
Warmth gathered in his chest.
“That sounds about right,” he said quietly.
* * *
Jim felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of him once Mari reappeared all ready to go.
She had disappeared into her bedroom after grabbing a cup of coffee and reemerged looking all made-up and professional, and he wanted so badly to pull her to him.
It felt so right to be there with her, so natural to wake up and see her, share morning coffee with her, watch her prepare for the day.