Framed (5 page)

“Anyway,” she continued, “let's talk about how
you're
going to teach me how to make the cool jewelry that you do. When do I get to start
that
?”

“I don't know, let me go look at the back room and see how the filing is shaping up.”

The twinkle in her eye let me know that I was going to be a happy camper when I pushed the adjoining door open.

I flipped the light on to see an immaculate space. Not only was my desk so clean and organized that Martha Stewart would've shed a tear of pride, but also the work area was no longer a safe house for random tools, tidbits, and scraps of whatnot. It looked like a legit crafting area with labeled boxes on shelves, hooks to hang tools, and see-through containers with materials in them so I could actually find what I was looking for.

She came up beside me and wove her arm through mine while my hands rested on my hips and looked up.

“So when do we start?”

“Did you eat yet?” I asked, knowing I was in for a long afternoon.

“No,” she said, the smile disappearing from her face.

“Well, you'd better go get some food. I don't plan on taking a snack break once I start.”

She bolted through the door so fast that I didn't even have time to put in my order. I was hoping she'd pick something up for me too; I was starving. I needed to go shower, but she'd worked so hard all day that I couldn't stomach making her wait any longer than necessary to get started.

I poked around the back room, admiring her work before returning to the front. Hiring her was seriously one of the best moves I could have ever made. I wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize that, regardless of what her mother wanted. Cooper was right; Ronnie could do her own dirty work.

Peyta and I spent a slow afternoon at the front counter going over the different tools, materials, and techniques I thought necessary to get her started with some basic work. She soaked it up like a sponge as the hours flew by. At closing time, she actually pouted when I told her to go home. I walked her to her mom's car and made sure she got off safely. It was still light out, but after the reminder I'd had earlier that morning, I wasn't taking any chances with her. Peyta's life had been in jeopardy because of me once. I wouldn't let it be ever again.

* * *

I drove down to Boston that night for a company rehearsal. We were planning a new event featuring local dance groups and needed to work out some details as well as new choreography. I was looking forward to it immensely.

I hadn't been able to go for the two weeks prior because of the damage I'd incurred during Peyta's kidnapping by the ghost of the Alpha wolf from the Utah pack that had taken me hostage months earlier. He'd nearly gutted me alive, and since Sean had me on a strict “no Scarlet” policy, the wound took a while to recover from. Dancing seemed like a bad idea at that time, though it took a lot of convincing from Cooper not to go.

Dance had always been the one thing that made me feel alive, free, and normal. I started when I was young and blind, after months of harassing my parents until they caved. Upon gaining sight, it took on a whole new form, but was still the only normal thing in my life as everything around me, including myself, started coming up supernatural.

Matty was my partner in the company and was steadily becoming a great friend. He was young, talented, and decidedly human. He was also pretty easy on the eyes, which made it even more enjoyable to be around him. I hadn't seen him for those weeks that I didn't attend class, and it was all I could do to keep him from coming up to check on me. I was really excited to see him that night and knew he'd be thrilled to see me, especially since I didn't tell him I was coming.

When I pulled up to the old warehouse building, there wasn’t a spot to be found nearby. I was forced to loop around the block and park down a side street, which made me mildly uneasy. Locking the car behind me, I quickly made my way around the corner and down the road to the studio. The neighborhood wasn't bad per se, but it wasn't exactly the kind of place you lingered in any longer than necessary. I'd had a bad experience the last time I was there with some locals that were hanging around out front. I wanted to avoid any repeats of that like the plague.

I peeked into the studio when I arrived; Matty wasn't there yet. I sat in the far back corner of the room so I wouldn't be easily seen when he entered. After five minutes of stretching and occasional chit chat with some of the others in the group, in strode the boyishly handsome Matty. He had a little extra swagger in his step, and I couldn't help but wonder what put it there.

“What's with the pimp strut, G-Money?” I hollered at him over the commotion in the room.

“Ruby!” he yelled, jogging over to me. I stood up to greet him, and he scooped me up, spinning me around until I was dizzy.

“Okay, okay...enough,” I begged, thinking vomit was imminent. “How are you, big guy?

“I'm good,” he replied with a charming smile on his face. “Better now, though. Where have you been? And no lame excuses—I want to know what was
really
going on.”

“I had to have abdominal surgery,” I said, lifting up my t-shirt to show him the silvery-white scar extending from my sternum to well below the waist of my shorts. “I didn't want anyone to worry and I wasn't up for visitors.”

“Jesus, Ruby, that looks serious!” he said, reaching his hand up to touch the smooth line. He pulled up short, dropping his hand awkwardly to his side before offering an uncomfortable smile. “Sorry. It just really surprised me to see that. It's
huge
. What did they have to take out that needed a hole that big?”

I dropped my shirt and my eyes down. I didn't know how to answer that question and hadn't bothered to prepare a credible lie. I hoped avoidance would work.

“Wow, I'm sorry, Ruby. I'm really sucking at this. It's none of my business. I'm just glad you're okay,” he said softly, trying to salvage the conversation. “On a lighter note, my strut you inquired about is a direct result of today being my birthday.”

“Nice! So you can legally go to the bars now? We don't have to sneak you in anymore?” I joked, giving him a little jab in the arm.

“Look everybody,” he said, pointing at me, “it thinks it's funny.” He turned a wide smile back to me, and I couldn't help but smile in return. “And I'm twenty-two, thank you very much. Aren't you coming up on thirty soon, old woman?”

“Ugh, yes, soon enough. Thanks for the reminder, Junior,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Does that mean that drinks are in order tonight?”

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “I can't go for long tonight...my parents are making dinner at their house. Rain check? We could do a proper outing later this week.”

“Sounds good. Text me with days that would work. It's easier for me if I'm already down here for class.”

“Deal,” he said, giving an official nod before continuing. “So we need to figure out what we're going to do for this show that's coming up. We're allowed to do a number together and Pam said that you could choreograph it. I think she's seriously impressed with your work. I wouldn't be surprised if she starts asking you to collaborate on the larger group’s numbers soon.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Your work is
really
that good. I don't understand how you can't see it,” he said shaking his head slightly. “Everyone else does.”

“I just do what I feel. I guess I don't think much about how it looks or what others will think. The movement makes sense to me and feels good.”

“Well, you need to come up with something killer for the show. I think they're ironing out a theme, but leaning towards an eighties extravaganza...big hair and all.”

“Were you even
alive
in the eighties?” I asked, trying to quickly do the math in my head.
“Barely,” he said, smiling.

“Jerk,” I replied, smiling back.

I knew I'd missed being there while I healed, but I hadn't realized just how much. I also hadn't realized how important Matty had become to me and my sanity.

“Looks like everyone is ready to get started. You sure you're up to this tonight?” he asked quietly with genuine concern in his voice.

“I'm more ready than you could possibly imagine.”

* * *

Class ran later than expected as we ironed out the details for the upcoming show at the end. While I was packing up my stuff, I saw Matty hovering by the exit. I'd thought he'd gone already, knowing that he was supposed to have dinner with his parents.

“Hey, aren't you going to be late?” I asked, zipping my bag closed.

“Just a bit. They'll wait for me, though...I'm the birthday boy.”

“That you are,” I said, leaning in to give a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Have a happy birthday and a great time with your family. We'll do something this week, I promise.”

“That's what I was waiting for,” he said, before pausing briefly. “Do you want to come?”

“Come where?” I asked, completely confused.

“To dinner...at my parents. They'd be happy to have you join us.”

“I don't know, Matty. I'll be pretty late getting home...”
“Come on, it'll be a blast. My sisters will all be there. You can meet the women behind my makeup applying genius! Besides, when was the last time you had a home cooked meal?”

He was right. I hadn't done anything family oriented since the death of my parents, and, in fairness, they didn't do much in the way of family events when they were alive. The closest thing I'd had to a party was Peyta's seriously botched birthday a few weeks earlier, and I didn't think it counted.

“Okay,” I said, hesitantly, “but only if you're sure your family won't mind.”

“It'll be fine,” he said, smiling ear to ear. “You can follow me there. It's an easy drive. Shouldn't take long.”

I followed him out to the street and turned to make my way to where I’d parked the TT. He wasn’t pleased with me walking alone and insisted that he escort me to the car, before sprinting back to the studio entrance where he’d snagged a spot right in front. Once I met up with him, we wove our way out of the city easily with little to no traffic.

His family lived on the south side of the Boston. It appeared as though at one time it was a wealthier area, but the years and urban sprawl were unkind. The neighborhoods were speckled with rundown, unkempt houses, and I wondered if those were part of a continuing trend, or aberrations; I hoped for the latter to be true. I hated seeing historical areas taken over by decay and depravity, especially when the houses had such architectural character.

We pulled up to a yellow Victorian that was well kept, but in need of a good scraping and repainting in the immediate future. The front door swung wide open and a stunning middle aged woman made her way out to the driveway to greet Matty. I shyly exited the Audi, feeling a little uncomfortable and wishing I had declined the invite.

“Ma, this is Ruby, my dance partner,” Matty said, pulling away from his mother's embrace. “Ruby, this is my mom.” I extended my hand to greet her, but instead was crushed into a hug so tight it knocked the wind out of me.

“Oh, it's so good to meet you finally. We've heard so much about you. And we saw your last show...you were
stunning
.”

I peeled myself off of Mrs. Carmilo as delicately as possible before addressing her. “Wow, thank you. I didn't know you had a chance to see it. Your son is amazing at making me look good on stage. He does most of the work.”

“Nonsense, dear. You brought tears to my eyes when I watched you. I know talent when I see it; I've been watching Matty perform since he was in grade school. There's something different about you when you dance. You
feel
it.”

“That's what I was just saying to her tonight at class, Ma. She has no idea how good she is.”

“Okay, okay, I give,” I said, blushing at all the attention. “Shouldn't we be fussing over you, Mister Birthday?”

“What we should be fussing over is this killer meal your mother has been slaving over all day,” a man called from the front door. “Get your butts in here and let's eat already.”

“We're coming, Dad, we're coming.”

“And how are you going to bring some gorgeous girl here and not give anybody a heads up first? I woulda put on a better shirt,” he said, razzing Matty. At that point, I was certain that all the blood from my lower half was pooling in my cheeks.

“Dad, this is Ruby, from dance—”

“I know, I know who Ruby is,” he said, heading down the steps to meet us as we approached the house. “Nice to meet you, young lady. And, I have to say, Matty, for once this one
is
a lady...I can tell.”

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Carmilo,” I said, going for a handshake yet again. He cupped my hand in both of his and gave a little squeeze.

“Call me Dom, please.”

“Okay,” I smiled. “Dom it is.”

“And call me Carmen, please. Mrs. Carmilo is my mother-in-law. Every time someone calls me that, I turn around to see if she's standing behind me.”

“Fair enough, Carmen,” I said, giggling. “I don't want to confuse you.”

She smiled at me as she whisked me into the house where I was then engulfed by Matty's three older sisters, two of their husbands, and five nieces and nephews. I realized that my definition of a family dinner was very different than his. Their loud and energetic conversations swallowed me up, and it only worsened as the wine bottles emptied. I dodged arms as they flew about chaotically for emphasis, so I kept my wine glass close to avoid being the cause of an irreversible stain on the rug.