Silent No More (3 page)

I’m standing in front of the windowpane looking
out at the Pacific Ocean in the distance. The water is beautiful and serene. It’s
a scene that always seems to put me at ease, settles me. That’s probably why I
love taking photographs on the beach. Every wave is different. They come to the
shore cleansing all the imperfections away. There is something so peaceful and
calming about the ocean. It’s my kind of perfect.

There is a rapid knock at the door that takes my
gaze away from the window. I turn my head to look at the clock on the
nightstand. It’s been an hour and half since I got off the phone with Stacy.
I’m impressed she didn’t take longer. The girl never leaves the apartment looking
anything less than immaculate.

I make my way to the entrance to my room. Without
looking through the peephole, I swing the door open and I’m immediately
enclosed in an almost vise-like hug by Stacy. 

“Katelyn would have come too, but she has rehearsal
all day.” Katelyn is an actress. Not the kind you see on TV or in movies. She
is into theater. I’ve seen her perform a couple of times. She’s fantastic.

“Okay, so now tell me how are you really holding
up?” Stacy continues. I’m getting the most sincere look I’ve ever seen from
her. Emotions aren’t her thing. She avoids them at all cost. As I expected, she
is dressed to perfection wearing a purple fitted sleeveless dress that comes
right above her knee. Her short blonde hair comes down just below her jaw. Stacy
is “Megyn Kelly” kind of beautiful.

I ignore her question again. Yeah, I’m probably
going to piss her off. I don’t care.

“Are you hungry? It’s almost eleven o’clock and
I’m starving. Eat lunch with me at
Mint
downstairs
. I wait for her reply as I take the bag of clothes hanging
from her shoulder. Mint is one of my favorite restaurants. It is not expensive
and serves great food. I eat there at least twice a month, usually with
Allison.

Why did he pick my best fucking friend? Of all the
females that populate this God damn world, why her? Stacy brings me back from
my negative thoughts.

“No. I want to know how the hell you are doing.
You don’t look broken up like someone who walked in on her asshole boyfriend
and best friend getting it on twenty-four hours ago. Shannon, I’ve been so
fucking worried about you, all night. Why didn’t you call or come over?” Stacy
pouts while placing her hands on her hips. As I look at her, I realize I’m so
grateful she is a part of my life.

“I know I could have come over and maybe I should
have.” Maybe then, I wouldn’t have gotten drunk and ended up in a stranger’s
bed!

“Yes, that is exactly where you should have come,
so why didn’t you?” she asks, exasperated, as I toss the bag on the bed. I turn
back to Stacy and shrug my shoulders. I don’t really have a plausible excuse;
at least not one she would like. I don’t want to talk. I want to be alone and
drown in myself. Well…I guess I sort of accomplished that.

“I needed time by myself to think. So after
driving around for a few hours, I ended up here,” I say while waving my hand
around the room. I conveniently leave out the events of last night. Although
knowing my friend, Stacy would probably have cheered me on. I could most
definitely smooth things over with her by filling her in on where I really
ended up last night. Not that it matters. I’ll probably never see him again.
That realization disappoints me a little. Geez, maybe this whole ordeal has
pushed me over the edge.

Placing my hand on Stacy’s shoulder, I tell her,
“I’m fine, really, I am. I’m not sure what to make of that just yet. I’m mostly
pissed and hurt over Allison. I just can’t believe she would do that…to me…with
Luke.”

I remove my hand from her shoulder. “I really am
hungry and I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, so I’m going to put clean
clothes on and go down to
Mint
.
Do you want to join me for lunch or not?”

“Fine,” she says, sounding resigned. “After that,
I have to go to the station to get ready for work,” Stacy replies.

“Thanks,” I say. Only Stacy would need at least
four to five hours to get ready to tell the weather on the six o’clock news. I
don’t say my thoughts out loud. I know she would be offended as well as pissed
off. She didn’t speak to Allison for a week once when she called her a “weather
girl”.

I hear a knock at the door and assume it’s
housekeeping bringing my clothes and undies back. “Are you expecting someone
else?” Stacy asks as I’m walking to the door. 

“I sent my dirty laundry to housekeeping a while
ago. Hopefully they’re back with my clean underwear,” I tell her as I open the
door a fraction of the way and take the garment bag from an older lady,
thanking her as I shut the door. Walking over to the bed, I dump the contents
out then grab the bag Stacy brought and dump everything out of it as well. I
grab a black short-sleeve fitted shirt, a faux fur vest, a pair of skinny jeans
and the pair of black riding boots. 

“I just need about twenty minutes to get myself
presentable. Will you go down to the restaurant, get us a table and order the
drinks?” I ask.

“Absolutely,” she replies with a smile while
heading for the door. 

* * * * *

 Half an hour later, I’m sliding into the
booth across from Stacy while picking up my glass of diet coke. Not exactly the
drink I would have chosen, but I’m not complaining since I didn’t tell her what
to order.

“What, no wine?” I joke.

“I have to work so I can’t drink this early, and
if I can’t drink, I’m certainly not going to sit here while you do,” she deadpans.
I know she is serious. Stacy is the life of every party and has been since I
met her our freshman year of college. She’s the person who broke me out of my
shyness, making me open up and trust people.

She likes to force me out of my comfort zone. She
can talk me into almost anything, and she has gotten me to do things I wouldn’t
normally do on my own. I’ll have to thank her for that one day; although, I’ll
never explain why that means so much to me. People enter our lives for all
different types of reasons, and I’m very glad I met the woman sitting across
the table from me.

I won’t let my mind wander. No need in thinking
about the past. The past needs to stay just there, in the past.

“I’m just messing with you. I have to go to the
gallery after lunch to finish everything for my meeting tomorrow morning at
LP.” I pick up the menu, scanning all the food.

Just as the waiter is walking up, I decide on a
cheeseburger with fries. Fatty, greasy food is just the pick me up I need. I
give the waiter my request and he turns to Stacy for her order. She’s eying me
in disgust. 

“I’ll have a grilled chicken salad with light
ranch dressing. No cheese, please,” she says in her soft flirty voice to the
young waiter who is probably five years younger than she is. Not that she’s
old. She and I are the same age. 

The waiter leaves as I’m rolling my eyes at her.
“You know, if you didn’t eat shit food, you could probably fit into my clothes,”
she tells me while lifting her diet coke to her lips to take a sip. 

“Whatever! I like to enjoy food. I’m not going to
limit myself to grass.” I take a sip of my own drink. Setting mine back down, I
continue, “Besides, I’ll never be a size two or whatever size it is you are. I
don’t have the small frame you do, and I’m quite happy with my body the way it
is.” It’s not like I’m fat and I do work out four days a week; although, I
missed my morning boxing class today.  

“Well, didn’t you just get over the flu or
something? You were sick for like three weeks. Maybe you should be eating
something light.” Stacy and concern isn’t something I’m used to. She tends
to be selfish and only think about herself. She never once bothered to call me
or bring me anything to eat while I was sick. I, on the other hand, have played
nursemaid to her on several occasions back in college.
 

Maybe she’s the one who’s getting sick.

“It was two weeks, but I’m fine now, and I’m ready
to eat decent food again.” I pick up my diet coke, taking a large gulp.

Within ten minutes, our food arrives and I sink my
teeth into my burger. Sitting it back on the plate, I remove the bun and toss
on some fries and a hefty amount of ketchup before taking another bite of the
mouthwatering burger and fries combination. 

“That is so disgusting. I don’t know how you eat
that,” she says, staring at my meal with her eyebrows scrunched together.

“It’s pretty tasty. Do you want to try it?” I ask,
holding it out in front of her. We both start giggling and finish up our
meal. Being here, I feel relaxed and more like myself. I probably should
dwell on why I feel so relaxed as an image of the man with the blue eyes flashes
before me. Luckily, I don’t have to think about it for too long as Stacy brings
me back to the here and now.

“So what do you plan on doing about Allison?”
Stacy asks as the waiter brings us both refills of diet coke.

What am I going to do? Part of me wants to kick
her ass and another part of me...well, I don’t even know really. I’m really
pissed and my heart aches. It’s Allison I hate. 

Why did it have to be her?

For some reason, I’m not even considering Luke in
my hatred. The Band Perry’s song
“Done”
pops into my head momentarily. That’s exactly the way I feel. I’m just…done.

“I don’t know.” It’s all I say, because frankly, I
just don’t know what to do when it comes to Allison. This is not a situation I
ever thought I would find myself in.

I look to a table across the room. There is an
older couple eating. They look…happy. They look like they love each other and
could tell each other anything. I don’t recall ever having a moment with Luke
like that. 

“She called Katelyn, last night. She is upset that
she hurt you, but she confessed she thinks she is in love with him.” Stacy
grabs my hand and squeezes. 

Wow! I don’t even know what to say to that. I pull
my hand out of her grasp.

“In love…with Luke. What is that supposed to mean?
Was yesterday not a one-time thing?” I say it aloud, but I’m really hashing it
out to myself. I never even considered them to be having an affair. Is it an
affair if you aren’t married yet?

 “I can’t answer that. I have no idea. Until
last night, I had no clue she…they were, you know…screwing around.” Stace takes
a sip of her drink. I think she knows more than she is saying, but I don’t push
it. I know she is trying to tiptoe around my feelings. Stacy is usually blunter
than she is being right now.

After the waiter brings us the check, we throw
down enough cash to cover the meals, drinks and tip. We get up, hug, and say
our goodbyes, and then we both set out on our way to work.

It’s right at one o’clock in the afternoon when I
walk through the door of
Art through a Lens
. That is the name of my
photography shop. Walking in, I smile and say “hi” to Jenny, who’s behind the
front counter wrapping up a large framed 24x36 photograph of a ten-foot wave I
captured in Hawaii last year.

She flashes a bright smile at me and asks, “Do you
need something to drink or help preparing for tomorrow?”

“A bottle of smart water would be great, but no
rush,” I reply. “I think I have everything covered for tomorrow. I just need to
make sure the layout is perfect. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” I
continue making my way to the back.

Placing my purse on my chair in front of my
computer, I walk over to the portfolio lying out on the long section of my L-shaped
desk. I take a seat on the bench in front, placing my right leg underneath my
butt to get comfortable. I know I’m going to be here for a while, dwelling over
which photos should be where in this layout. I wasn’t this indecisive with the
first book I published last year.

A few minutes later Jenny walks in with my water
and I take it from her hand, thanking her. She walks right back out of my
office to go back to the front. I pop the cap up and take a sip. The water
tastes refreshing as it eases down my throat. Afterwards, I place it to my far
left so there isn’t a chance of spilling it. I’m somewhat clumsy. 

The front door chimes, but I ignore it. Jenny’s
out front; she can deal with the customer. Today, I don’t need any
distractions. 

The voices I hear are low, but I am able to make
out Jenny saying, “Miss Taylor is busy today. Sir, would you like to make an
appointment to come back to see her?” There is a pause before she continues.
“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t go back there. Sir?”

I feel his eyes on me before I see him. It’s that
same warm tingling feeling that washed over my body this morning. I look up,
over my left shoulder at the door. There he is, filling the doorframe with his
large hard body; staring at me with those blue flames. Holy cow, this man is
too hot for his own good.

It should be a sin.

Perhaps it is and I don’t know it. I’m a terrible
Catholic who hasn’t been to church since my early teens. Now that so many years
have passed, I wouldn’t dare take communion without confessing my secrets. And
well…that just isn’t going to happen. You would think if a person could talk to
someone, it would be easy to tell one’s priest. But it’s not. I did try once,
but I chickened out before I even walked into the church.

He clears his throat, pulling me out of my
thoughts. My eyes roam over him from head to toe on their own accord. He’s
dressed in the same suit he was wearing this morning, minus the jacket. The
disappointment I felt earlier at the thought of never seeing him again
vanishes. My eyes travel back up, locking onto his.

Jenny is right behind him and tries to push her
way into the room, but he doesn’t budge. “Excuse me, sir, but I
−
”

“It’s okay, Jenny. He can stay,” I cut her off,
but never break eye contact with him. How did he know where to find me? I don’t
even know who he is, yet he’s standing here in my gallery, in my office; this
makes me smile on the inside for some reason.

“Okay, but call me if you need anything.” Jenny
leaves to go back up front and we continue to stare at each other. 

I turn on the bench so I’m facing him with my
hands in my lap, but I remain seated in the same position with my right leg
tucked under me. He walks closer, coming inside my office. Now I’m looking up
at him and he’s staring down at me.

I’m the first to break eye contact, looking down
at my hands. “What are you doing here, and how did you know where I worked?” I
look back up to him while I wait for an answer. 

He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small
object. When he opens his hand, it reveals my ring lying in his palm. The one I
had taken off at the bar last night. I hadn’t thought about it or even realized
it was missing.

What does that tell you, Shannon?

“I didn’t have a chance to give this back to you
this morning before you ran out.”

“I didn’t run; I walked out,” I reply and stand up
to take the ring from him. I did run out, but I didn’t think it was that
obvious. Apparently, I'm wrong. When I reach to take the ring from his palm, he
gently grabs my hand. The ring between our hands is the only thing keeping us
from complete contact. 

I look up at him. I’m standing now, but I still
have to look up a little to meet his eyes. I’m not a short person. I’m of
average height at 5’7 He must be about eight inches taller, putting him at
about 6’3. His shoulders are broad. His biceps and chest fill his dress shirt,
making creases where I can see his muscles underneath. 

“It looked like you couldn’t get out of there
quick enough,” he says in a low steady tone.

God, I wish he would stop looking at me the way he
does. I feel like I have knots in my stomach. This is not a feeling I’m used
to.

I take the ring from his palm and toss it on my
desk. Looking back up, I say, “You didn’t answer the last part of my question.
How did you know where I would be?” 

He takes a half of a step closer. I can feel his
breath on my face and I can smell his scent. He smells fresh and clean. Like he
just stepped out of a shower. 

I like it.

“Your business card fell out of your purse last
night. I didn’t know you would be here. I took a chance, and here you are.” The
way he responds comes off odd. Like it’s forced and he tensed slightly when he
said it. Plus my cards are zipped up in my wallet, so it’s a stretch that one
just fell out. I don’t question him or call him on it though.

I hear commotion out front. It’s Luke’s voice. The
sound makes me want to break something.

“Great,” I say sarcastically on a sigh. It’s just
what I need today. I grab the ring from my desk and step around the
intoxicating man in front of me and walk out of my office to the front. Luke
and Jenny are talking. He’s dressed in blue scrubs for work. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask him in a
harsh voice.

I feel the stranger from last night coming to
stand behind me. I don’t know why he’s here, but it makes me feel warm again,
almost as if he is keeping me safe and protected. I ignore this and concentrate
on Luke. I don’t want to see him.

Ever again!

Luke walks up to me. He looks me in the eye as
he’s only about an inch taller than I am. “We need to talk,” he says and grabs
my arm at my elbow. 

I snatch it out of his grasp, taking a step back.
The man standing behind me is so close I can feel his breath on the back of my
hair and I tense. He notices because he places his hand on my shoulder and it
immediately relaxes me.

Luke looks at his hand on my shoulder then at the
man standing behind me. His eyes land back on mine.

He’s angry.

“Who the hell is he?” Luke asks.

I ignore his question because I can, and because I
don’t know who he is, but at the same time, something inside me is glad he is
here. I take the ring from my hand and toss it to Luke. He catches it in his
right hand.

“That’s yours. I don’t want it and I never want to
see you again! Now get out of here! We! Are! Done!”

Jenny is still behind the front counter looking
uncomfortable, but doesn’t say anything. I doubt she has ever heard me raise my
voice. I’m not usually like this and I’ve never brought drama to work before. I
feel bad. Maybe I should have told her about yesterday, but we really don’t have
that kind of relationship. She tries to busy herself. I can only imagine what
this scene must look like.

“Shut the fuck up, Shannon! You’re mine and we are
not
over!” Luke says with a
condescending tone.

Whoa!

He has always been this way, but I don’t think I
realized that until this moment. What the hell was wrong with me? I can totally
see why Stacy and Ben have always thought he was a jerk. 

My eyes flare and I take a deep breath. “I don’t
belong
to anyone and I certainly don’t
belong to your sorry, pathetic cheating ass!” I yell back at him. I want to
lunge at him and scratch his eyes out, but instead, I’m grabbed by the waist
and flipped around by the man whom I don’t know. The feel of his hands warms
me. I should be angry at being manhandled, but I’m not. I want him to touch me
again.

“I believe she told you to leave, so I suggest you
do that before I do it for you,” he says in a strong voice that’s filled with
authority. I’m stunned. I don’t know what to make of this. Luke looks
intimidated. I do a little shimmy dance inside.

Take
that, asshole!

“Fuck off, Luke! Better yet, go fuck the little
tramp you have been banging for God only knows how long,” I say before storming
off, back in the direction of my office.
 

I hear Luke as he’s walking out the door say,
“This is far from over, Shannon.”

The hell it isn’t!

Damn, that felt good.

I enter my office, stripping off the vest I’m
wearing. I’m too hot and my breathing is rapid. I try to calm myself. I’m
standing in the middle of my office taking several deep breaths when I feel him
walk up behind me. He places both of his hands on my shoulders and begins to
massage them softly. It feels nice. I want to wrap myself around his touch.

I immediately relax again, and the tension I felt
moments ago is gone.
Who is he and why do
I feel like this every time I’m in the same room with him?
Slowly, I turn
so I’m facing him again, looking up into his beautiful flaming-blue eyes.

“So…mind telling me your name?” My voice is low
and calm. 

“Nicholas,” he replies, while bringing his left
hand back to my shoulder where he’d let go as I turned. 

“I take it you already know mine?”

“I do.” He nods his head in confirmation.

I pull away from him and go back to sit on the
bench in front of my portfolio. My back is to him and I tuck my right leg under
my butt, trying to feign calm. I feel him getting closer. He leans down and
over me. He places his hands on the desk, caging me in. His front is touching
my back, and again that damn heat covers my body from head to toe. I can only
imagine how flushed my face is. Redheads can’t hide that shit as easily as
others.

“What is this?” he asks, while looking at the
collection of pictures in front of me. I raise my head. It’s now touching his
shoulder and our faces are parallel to each other.

Damn, he smells good. If I turn to sniff him,
would he notice? Probably. I remain looking forward.

“Did we have sex last night?” I don’t look at him.
That is the question I really wanted to ask this morning, but I didn’t have the
courage.

I feel him tense, but only a little. “If we’d had
sex last night, you would still be feeling it this afternoon,” he replies.

What the hell does that mean? Can this man not
answer a straightforward question? I hate games. I want to know; at least, I
think I want to know. 

“Damn it, Nick, stop dodging my questions and just
answer me. Did we fuck? It’s a yes or no question!” My voice is strained and my
face is flustered. 

“I told you my name is Nicholas. Don’t call me
Nick, and no, we did not fuck last night!” I relax. At least I didn’t make that
kind of horrible mistake while intoxicated. He turns his head and his mouth is
against my right ear.

“But when I do fuck you, your eyes will be wide
open and you won’t forget it!” His tone is a whisper and his breath is cool on
my skin. It makes my body shiver. I can’t say anything. The words aren’t coming
to my mouth. I’m shocked. More shocked than I think I’ve ever been. Did he
seriously just say that? And if we didn’t have sex, then where the hell did he
sleep last night?

“Where did you sleep?” I ask, sounding a little
bolder now that I know I didn’t hop in bed with this guy.

“The couch,” he states, like it should have been
obvious. He grabs a photo lying on my desk and hands it to me. “You should use
this for the cover. It’s perfect.” And with those last words, he walks
out. 

Looking at the photo in my hand, I realize he’s
right. It’s a photo of the statue of Saint Didacus, the patron saint of San
Diego. This one photo completes everything. I’m done. No more agonizing over
what goes where; he’s done my job for me. How did he know? I put the photo in
its place before closing my portfolio and placing it in my large tote
bag. 

Getting off the bench, I walk to the chair in
front of my computer and remove my purse that is still sitting in the same spot
I tossed it when I walked in. I sit down and log onto my computer. For the next
few hours, I check my email and reply to everyone who needs one. Some I forward
to Jenny to handle such as orders and invoices.

At five o’clock, I shut down my computer and grab
my purse to leave. It’s a miracle I accomplished anything this afternoon
considering my inability to concentrate on things that weren’t hard muscles and
fiery blue eyes. Who the hell is this guy? My mind is focused on him as I walk out
to the front of my gallery. I decide I don’t need to know, and push all
thoughts of Nick out of my mind. I have enough drama in my life already.