My phone vibrated again. Dammit. What now?
I considered ignoring it but wasn’t a “put off until later what you can do now” kind of guy.
Stopping, I moved out of the way and into the mouth of an alley. Dreading looking at the screen, I scowled at the unknown number but tapped the glass to pull up the text.
Unknown: Last night was the bomb. Ready for round two? I’m free tonight?
Oh hell no. It was Chelsie.
Me: Did you see front page of Behind the Scenes?
Chelsie: Yes!!! ? It’s on all the major websites now. My agent is thrilled. Already booked two new gigs!!
I stared at my phone. Un-freakin-believable. And how did she get this number?
Me: Congratulations?
Was there an emoji for sarcasm? I wasn’t sure.
Chelsie: Thanks! <3 What about tonight?
Me: No but good luck with your life.
With some quick actions of my thumbs, I blocked her number and powered off my phone before I threw the damn thing against the wall.
Jamming it back into my pocket, I turned and ran straight into someone, reaching out to steady them — her — after nearly knocking her down.
“Oops,” she said, the bright smile not leaving her face as her blue eyes met mine.
Damn. It was like staring into the sky on a sunny day.
She blushed, and the freckles on her nose seemed to grow darker. But before I could say a word, she darted around me and continued down the alley.
Where was she going?
“Hi, Joseph,” I heard her say but didn’t see anyone in the dim light. A dog jumped out from behind a dumpster, its tail wagging in delight. She squatted down and reached into one of the large canvas bags she carried, patting the dog on its head. “Hi, Target. Have you been a good boy? Ready for some breakfast?”
Stepping back so she wouldn’t see me hovering like some psycho stalker, I looked around the corner to see her feeding the dog. The thin creature gobbled it down in only a few swallows, then looked up at her, his face filled with expectation of more.
“Time for your flea medicine,” she said and pulled a little tube out of her bag. Within seconds, she’d dosed the happy dog. Soon, he was chewing on a bone while she ran her hands down his spine. She lifted all four paws, checking the pads. “You look so much better, don’t you, boy?” I smiled at the dog’s response to her baby talk.
She stood and pulled out a brown paper bag. “Ham and cheese today, Joseph. Hope that’s okay.” She pulled out a box of antibacterial wipes and opened the lid. A man stepped from behind the dumpster and took several, wiping off his face and hands.
“Thank you, Eliana. I’m sure it will be as good as always.”
“Here are your vitamins.” She dropped several pills in the man’s hand then gave him a bottle of water, waiting until he washed them down. He guzzled the water, emptying the bottle. She took it from him and handed him another. Watching him drink so thirstily made me feel like shit. I wrote huge checks to various charities but had never reached out beyond the Beasts sponsored events Katrina forced us too. I’d have to change that.
She leaned forward and kissed the old man on his cheek. “Need anything special tomorrow?”
The man was already biting into an apple. “No, no. You already do too much.”
“Be sure to eat all of it. Target has already eaten, so you keep the rest for you.”
The old man laughed. “I will. Thanks again.”
She patted Target on the head one last time before turning my way. I jumped back and stepped into the doorway of a store, pulling my cap down lower on my forehead.
Peeking out, I watched her cute ass practically skipping down the sidewalk, the ponytail containing a mass of hair that wasn’t quite red or blonde or brown swinging side to side. Was she always this happy? Did her skin always glow?
Wearing dark skinny jeans and slip-on canvas sneakers, she’d topped the casual look with some filmy peasant-looking top that kept sliding off one shoulder, giving me a glimpse of freckled skin.
Damn, I wanted to play connect the dots with my tongue.
Everywhere she went, she stood out among the rushed urgency of businessmen and women talking on their phones or tapping at screens, as if some ray of sun followed her every movement.
At the next alley, I witnessed the same interaction, except the dog was a hound named Daisy and the homeless man called Lou. She fed them both, poked and prodded the animal before dosing her with flea meds and playing a game of fetch with the long-legged, floppy-eared animal.
Fascinated now, I followed her to two more alleys. More food. More flea meds, the dogs always overjoyed at her visit. She handed additional bags of food to those without animals, addressing each of them by their names, but she only spent real time with the dogs.
Feeling decidedly like a stalker now, I waited until she exited the last alley before deciding to approach her, because there was no question… I had to approach her. But even as I picked up my pace, her steps began to slow, her shoulders sagging just a little.
Wondering about her sudden change in mood, I hung back, wanting to see what she would do next. What she did was drop her now empty canvas bags to the ground and turn to face a store window with a heavy sigh I could hear from where I stood.
Pulling my cap lower, I grabbed a newspaper — a real one, not the gossip shit — and sat down on a nearby bench. She had stopped outside a plush eatery. Not quite a diner but not quite an upscale restaurant either, I hadn’t eaten there before. She — Eliana, the homeless guy called her — squatted down and began rolling up the canvas bags, tucking them into a large Prada hobo. With two sisters, I knew everything Prada.
Standing again, she pulled the band from her ponytail, her unique colored hair falling around her shoulders in waves. She ran her fingers through it several times before twisting it into some high knot on top of her head, securing it with pins she pulled from her Mary Poppins bag. She smeared on lipstick, a much darker shade than she’d been wearing, and stuck some dangling earrings in her ears, then a few strands of beads around her neck.
Was she getting ready for a date?
If so, it wasn’t a happy relationship based on her body language.
Next, she kicked her sneakers off and stuck her feet into Jimmy Choo wedges. The never-ending bag revealed a two-toned jacket that only came to her waist, not covering the glorious ass I’d been admiring the past half hour. When she was finished, she stood there, staring at her reflection. She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. I could imagine that she was giving herself a mental pep talk.
What was she dreading so much?
I didn’t know what she was doing or why, but my fascination with the amazing woman only grew with her sidewalk transformation.
And when she gathered her things and walked into the restaurant, I waited only a few minutes before following.
CHAPTER TWO
Eliana