Freefall (Santa Cruz Skydivers Book 1) (3 page)

I waited and timed getting out of my car perfectly with him.

“Hi, Ben,” I gushed as he closed his car door, locking it with a beep of his electronic key remote.

Attempting to smooth down the wrinkles in my severely creased uniform, I stood straight and glanced sideways at Ben, locking the door to my car the old fashioned way, by pressing the lock button and holding up the handle as I slammed it closed. None of that fancy central locking for me.

“Hey, Andi. T.G.I.F. Right?” He smiled his perfect smile and starting walking toward the back staff entrance of the building. Hurriedly, I caught up to him so I could at least get a couple minutes of his time before we started work.

I tried to suppress the fangirl expression that I knew was on my face. It was hard when my heart was pounding against my chest. “You got that right. You have any plans for the weekend?”

“Apparently, I have to attend some black-tie function tonight on behalf of my father,” he told me as we walked side by side. “Not looking forward to it at all. Those events are so dull.”

Ben’s family was loaded. I’d heard from other staff members that he was only working because his father thought it best that he experience manual labor before he graduated college so he could associate with the “real world.”  He was studying law and his dad was a top brain surgeon with a multi-million dollar real estate portfolio. Over achieving clearly ran in their veins. So, with my poor pedigree, and their wealth, I wasn’t really expecting a shot at him. But a girl had to dream.

“What about you? You got some major plans this weekend? I’ve heard around that you don’t mind the odd party or two.” He raised his eyebrow, giving me a knowing smirk.

He’d heard about me! Who cares that he had only heard about me through a bad reputation? What mattered was that he had been discussing me.

I laughed dismissively, trying to hide the fact that I was about to jump out of my skin with excitement. “Well, what’s life without a bit of fun?” I attempted to sound casual. Fun Andi, front and center.

“Got to agree with you there, Andi.” He opened the staff door entrance, letting me walk through first. “Have a great day.”

And with that, he strode off in the direction of his department manager’s office to no doubt inform him of his arrival before signing on for the day. I watched as his hot ass disappeared around the aisles of canned food. As soon as he was out of earshot, I let out an audible sigh. I had a real thing for guys with awesome behinds. My mind started working overtime on what he would look like naked.

“You need to stop your obsession over him,” a familiar voice said over my shoulder. It was Charlize. “You know you have zero chance with him. Sorry, but just keeping it real.”

I turned to face her. “Thanks, Char. I keep hoping he might realize we are meant to be together. It’s our destiny.”

She laughed out loud as we walked side by side toward our office. “You’re so funny.” Laughter still tainted her words. “You are joking, aren’t you? This is real life, not one of your romance novels.”

“I know it’s ludicrous,” I agreed, not really finding myself funny. “A guy like him would never be into a girl like me.”

“Let’s try and be positive,” she said, trying to lift my spirits like all good friends do, her face now serious. “At least you got to speak to him before work started. Now you will have something to keep you going until lunch.”

“That’s right! He must be here all day. He doesn’t usually work the morning shift. Wonder what time he’s taking lunch?”

My day suddenly improved at the prospect of spending lunch with Ben in the staff room, and I bounced my way to my office with renewed daydream fantasies of romantic lunchtime rendezvous.

Chapter Three

Andi

“I think I might just go kill myself now and be done with it,” I complained to Char as I picked off the pineapple on my cold, stale pizza.

Depression had kicked in, as my romantic lunch didn’t manifest like I had visualized. I only had a few minutes remaining before my break finished, and Ben hadn’t shown up for his yet. Much to my disappointment, I hadn’t set eyes on him since our parking lot conversation, despite me finding numerous excuses to walk down to his department. Stalker alert.

I kept attacking the pizza. Who put fruit on a pizza anyway? Lili did, that’s who. It went against every fiber of my Italian heritage to put fruit on pizza. Next time, I wouldn’t let her order. Besides, I was the one who always paid.

With my appetite completely gone, I re-wrapped the cheese and fruit flavored cardboard pizza in its aluminum foil wrapping and pitched it in the trash with a loud thud.

“You’re just in a rut, that’s all,” Char said, trying to break through my depression. “We need to get you rutless.”

“Is that even a word? Rutless?” I scoffed. I wasn’t in the mood for a pep talk right now, and I certainly didn’t feel like finding a solution.

Char shrugged her shoulders, ignoring my negativity. “Who cares? I’m studying accounting, not English. What we need to do is find you a boyfriend.”

“You don’t think I haven’t been trying?” I asked with just a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “I’m actually resigned to the fact that I just don’t think there is anyone out there for me.”

“Of course there is. You’re just not looking in the right places. Plus, you are only twenty-one, not forty-one.”

“Well, I’ll be forty-one before you know it and still alone. Where do you suggest I look?” I asked. “Because last time I looked, it was the same usual crowds at the same usual places.”

Instead of waiting for her to reply, I decided to change the topic from my depressing love life to a pastime she would be more interested in. “Oh, that reminds me. So, I have to go to a thing tonight with Lili, but after that, are you keen to hit up that new club, The Warehouse? Unless you and Sam are doing something tonight?”

“Ooh, yes!” She reminded me of a puppy as she practically jumped out of her seat with excitement, all thoughts of my boring love life forgotten. Char loved to have a good time and dance. But, unlike me, she had a boyfriend. Well, part-time boyfriend. “I’ve been dying to go there since it opened. I heard the resident DJ is awesome! And as for Sam, well, he and I are, um, not really talking at the moment.”

“Again? I knew you guys were taking one your ‘breaks.’” I used my fingers to show inverted speech quotes. “But I didn’t know it had escalated into not talking.”

She shrugged, smiling wistfully. “You know how it is. Next week, we’ll be fine. He just needs his space. So, what time are you thinking tonight?”

“Hmmm, good question,” I mused. “I’ll have to text you later when I find out the deal with tonight. I’m pretty sure Lili won’t expect me to stay all night. Basically, she just needs me to hold her hand for a few hours until Scotty gets off work. I’m thinking eleven at the latest.”

“Great.” Simultaneously, we looked at the clock and realized our lunch break was over. She groaned loudly. “Ugh, I guess we had better get back to work.”

“Guess so.” I exhaled audibly, disappointed that lunch was over and I hadn’t seen Ben.

“Hey, at least it’s only a couple of hours until we are finished for the weekend,” she said, trying to cheer me up. “Who knows what mystery guy you might meet tonight. I’ve heard the guys at The Warehouse are way hotter than the usuals at any of the other clubs.”

I forced out some optimism. “Yes, who knows?”
But I won’t be holding my breath
.

****

“What’s with this fucking traffic?” I yelled, throwing my hands up in frustration at the gridlocked cars in front of me. As if I wasn’t rushed enough.

Somehow, between leaving work and heading straight home, I had become late. Like, half an hour late, to be exact. What normally was a ten-minute journey had turned into forty. Traffic was manic. Apparently, a Hollywood starlet had caused pandemonium at the boardwalk while arriving unannounced after doing some kind of charity work at the hospital, backing up peak hour traffic.

Slowly, I snaked my way through the bumper-to-bumper congestion. It was just my luck to be late when I had plans. However, the way things had been going all day, it didn’t really surprise me. Just another fitting end to another screwed up day. I glanced at my watch. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

After another five minutes of stop-start, the traffic started to flow and I floored the accelerator Vin Diesel style when the traffic cleared. Once home, I moved in double-time. I threw my belongings in the general direction of my bed and basically just splashed enough water on myself in the shower to classify myself as clean. There was no time to shave my legs or even wash my hair. I should have been at the hairdresser by now to pick Lili up.

Shutting off the shower, I ran the towel quickly over my body, put on my underwear, and went to my room to get dressed. After dressing in my pants and top, I slid on a pair of stilettos Lili had lent me for the night. I wobbled a little unsteadily, arms out like I was walking a tightrope while wishing Converse sneakers were more appropriate. I turned to look at myself in the mirror and, as I pivoted, my heel caught in the hem of my too long pants. Down I went, ungracefully trying to stop myself from falling by flailing and grabbing at thin air. Without anything to grab and steady myself, I took a step forward to rebalance, and the heel of the shoe went right though the pants with a loud rip.

“
Mafankulo
!” I looked down. The hem of my pants was bunched under my shoe with the slim, pointy heel poking out the material.

Kicking the shoes off, I slid the pants down and sat on the end of my bed. After examining the massive hole, I ruled them out of contention. Instead of wasting time I didn’t have dwelling over the fact I had just ruined my last pair of dress pants, I threw them onto a pile of clothes that I needed to launder, and opened my closet to look for something else halfway decent to wear. Nothing, except my usual attire of jeans and T-shirts, and I didn’t really think Lili would appreciate me rocking up to her boyfriend’s work event dressed like that.

I tried to think of someone who was a size eight like me, and the only person I could think of was my mother. Lili was a tall size two and Char a four, so I had no hope of squeezing into an item of theirs. Why did I have to be so curvy? Big boobs, big thighs. Ugh. With really no other option, the only choice I had was Mom.

Grabbing my cell phone from my purse, which I located under my bed, I pressed her number on speed dial. She answered it on the second ring.

“
Ciao
Bella
,” she answered, obviously knowing it was me from the caller ID. My parents had always called me Bella instead of my real name—Andreana. I preferred Andi, but Mom and Dad were first generation American born Italians and loved to call me Bella, a common term of endearment used for Italian females. Although both my parents spoke fluent Italian, I had never learned to speak it or understand it, other than the basics and a handful of swear words from my brothers. Not that my parents hadn’t tried to teach me, of course, it’s just I had never embraced my Italian heritage. Thankfully, this hadn’t extended to food. I loved a good home-cooked pasta dish.

“
Ciao
, Mom. I need a huge favor. Do you have anything that would be suitable for a semi-formal function tonight? Lili and Scotty have invited me along to a party being held by the paper.”

“Oh, how exciting. Let me think.” She paused. I knew she would be at home sitting in the kitchen with Papa, tapping her lips in thought. “Ahh, I have my black lace dress that I wore to Aunt Stella’s funeral. You know the one. I sometimes wear it to Sunday mass.”

My mind’s eye recalled the outdated dress, and I cringed at the thought of me wearing it. Not that it was totally ugly, it’s just that it was more suited to someone my mom’s age, and, well, it
was
ugly.

“How about I come over and have a look at what you’ve got?” I suggested diplomatically. “I’ve also got some clothes I haven’t had time to launder. Will you be able to wash them for me?”

“I’d love to help, Bella. When will you be over?”

“I’ll leave as soon as I rearrange my plans with Lili.” I was already up grabbing some clothes to put on.

“I can’t wait to see you. You never seem to have much time for us anymore.”

I rolled my eyes at her comment. This was the exact reason I’d moved out of home and tried not to see them more than once during the week.

“I see you every Sunday for family dinner, plus when you stop by during the week,” I told her bluntly. Mom liked to drop off homemade lasagna mid-week for Lili and me. She didn’t think we ate healthy enough, and she would be right. My wage didn’t cover much more than rent, gas, takeout pizza, and vodka. “Mom, I am twenty-one. I need to spread my wings. I do have a life outside of the family, you know.” Granted, it wasn’t much of one, but it was the only one I had.

“I know.” She sniffed. Clearly the guilt-laden waterworks had started. “It’s just that we miss you.”

I softened my tone. “Look, Mom, I miss you and Papa too, but let’s discuss this later okay? I’ll be there soon.
Ti voglio bene
.
Ciao.
”

I hung the phone up before she could guilt trip me anymore. They were so suffocating it drove me crazy. I loved them dearly, but being the youngest of four children as well as the only daughter to aging Italian parents had its drawbacks. Mom had been forty-five and Dad fifty when I was born. I was their little miracle baby. Mom suffered an ectopic pregnancy. after my brothers were born and was told she would never have children again. So, quite often, they tended to be overly protective of me, always wrapping me up in cotton wool. More so after Papa suffered his heart attack and I needed medication.

Quickly, I speed-dialed Lili’s number to tell her about my change of plans. She answered on the first ring.

“Hey, what’s up?” she yelled into the microphone. The background noise on her end was buzzing with the sounds of hairdryers and girls laughing. “They are just finishing me now. I haven’t told you yet, but Scotty bought me a new dress to wear tonight. It’s Versace, totally gorgeous, and… Just a second, shouldn’t you be on your way to pick me up?”

“Can’t wait to see the dress.” My words were hurried. “I’m sorry, I’ve had to change my plans slightly. I ripped the pants I was going to wear and I have to go to my mom’s to borrow a dress to wear. I might be running a bit late. Is that okay?”

She groaned in annoyance. “Is that your only option? A dress from your mother?”

I could tell she was pissed. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I won’t fit into anything of yours or Char’s. I promise I’ll be as quick as I can be. Don’t blame me that you’re both skinny.”

“I guess if that’s your only option. But hurry, we can’t get there late,” she commanded, ignoring my skinny comment. She was naturally thin and could eat anything she liked.

“It won’t take more than half an hour.” I hoped.

“Okay, I’ll grab a cab back home and meet you at the apartment.”

One hour later, I was absurdly late when I finally left my parents’, dress in hand. My mother had expected me to sit down and have a chat over Italian coffee and freshly made brownies she had whipped up as soon as I’d called. No wonder I had a weight problem. But, it was nice to be looked after by my mom following a crappy day, and while she may be overbearing at times—she was Italian after all—I did love her. After finally choosing the Aunt Stella dress—Mom had nothing eveningwear appropriate other than the funeral dress—I raced home to do my hair and makeup before we left for the event.

Experiencing a total déjà vu moment, I launched myself out of my Jeep as soon as I had put it in park and took the steps to my apartment two at a time. By the time I reached the door, I was doubled over, gasping for air when I let myself in.

Lili was pacing the living room, talking into her cell phone. “She just got here, babe.” She eyeballed me as I practically keeled over from lack of oxygen. “We’ll be there soon, okay?
Mwah
.”

She looked stunning, and together with her height and professional hair and makeup, she could have passed for a supermodel thanks to the new dress Scotty had bought her for the occasion. I looked down at the dress I had in my hand and then looked at her. I hated to admit I was a little jealous—okay, a lot jealous—of how hot she looked. I tried to not let it get to me. Even if I had that dress and that makeup, I would never look like her. Not in a million years.

I pushed aside my envy, gushing at her. “You look amazing. That is something like Angelina Jolie would wear to the Oscars.” The dress was classic Versace. Black-sequined, floor length, low cut front, backless, and a thigh-high split up the side.

“Oh, this old thing?” For full effect, she spun around to give me a better view of her dress, running her hand down her flat stomach. Was she wearing Spanx?  “I know. It’s gorgeous. I love it.”

“It looks expensive.”

Her smile widened. “It is. Although, it’s only off the rack. What I wouldn’t give for a direct runway dress. That would be the ultimate.”