CHAPTER THREE
The Japanese restaurant she had selected was a hibachi grill–type place, with the big open stovetops to allow large groups to sit around and watch the cooks perform their artistry. Chloe and Moulton opted for a table in the quiet, more private area of the restaurant. When they were both seated, she was pleased to find that it felt natural to be in a setting like this with him. Physical attraction aside, she had liked Moulton from the first moment she had met him. He had been the one shining light in a day where she had been switched from the Evidence Response Team to the Violent Crimes Program. And here he was, still making awkward moments in her life more bearable.
She didn’t want to ruin the night with such conversation, but she also knew that if she didn’t get it off her chest, it would be a needless distraction.
“So,” Moulton said, picking at the corners of his menu as he opened it. “It wasn’t odd that I asked you out?”
“I’m sure it depends on who you ask,” she answered. “Director Johnson might not think it’s the best idea. However, in keeping with honesty,” she said, “I’ve kind of been hoping you’d ask.”
“Ah, so you’re a traditionalist? You wouldn’t have asked me out? You would have waited for me to ask?”
“It’s not so much being a traditionalist as it is being scarred from a past relationship. Which I supposed I may as well let you in on. Up until about seven months ago, I was engaged.”
The shock on his face was only momentary. Fortunately, she saw no fear or awkwardness there. Before he could comment on this, the waitress came by to take their drink orders. They both ordered a Sapporo, placing the orders quickly, as not to let the momentum of their conversation stall out.
“Can I ask why it fell apart?” Moulton asked.
“It’s a long story. The condensed version of it is that the guy was overbearing and couldn’t separate himself from the shadow of his family—his mother in particular. And when I suddenly had a career with the FBI sitting right there in front of me, he wasn’t very supportive. He also wasn’t at all supportive of my own family issues…”
It then occurred to her that he probably knew about some of her family history. When she had gone digging it up near the end of her training, she was well aware that it had made the rounds of the academy grapevine.
“Yeah, I heard bits and pieces about that…”
He let the comment hang. Chloe took that to mean that if she wanted to tell him about it, he would listen. But if she’d rather not go there, he was fine with that, too. And at the moment, with everything that was on her mind, she figured it was now or never. No sense in waiting, she thought.
“While I’ll spare you the details for some later day, I guess I should let you know that I saw my father today.”
“So he’s out now?”
“Yes. And I think it’s mostly because of discoveries I made about my mother’s death over the last several months.”
It took Moulton a while to figure out where to go from there. He, too, used sipping from his beer as a method of taking his time. When he had a large gulp of it down, he replied with the best answer he could have.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so. It was just very unexpected.”
“Chloe, we didn’t have to go out tonight. I would have understood if you called it off.”
“I almost did. But I didn’t see the point in giving him control over yet another part of my life.”
He nodded and they both took the silence that followed as a time to look over their menus. The silence remained between them until the same waitress came back to take their orders. When she was gone, Moulton leaned across the table a bit and asked: “Do you want to talk about it, or are we ignoring it?”
“You know, I think I’d rather just ignore it for now. Just be aware that there might be times tonight where I might be distracted.”
He smiled and slowly got up from his chair. “That’s fair. But let me try something, if that’s okay.”
“What?…”
He took a large step toward her, bent down a bit, and kissed her. She jerked back at first, unsure of what he was doing. But when she realized his intent, she let it happen. Not only that, but she kissed him back. It was soft but with just enough urgency to give her the idea that he had been thinking about this probably as long as she had.
He broke the kiss before it started to get uncomfortable; they were, after all, sitting in a restaurant surrounded by other people. And Chloe had never been one for public displays of affection.
“Not that I’m complaining,” she said, “but what was that for?”
“Two things. It was me being brave…something I am rarely able to do with a woman. And it was also me giving you another distraction…hopefully one that can outweigh the distraction of your father.”
With her head swimming a bit and warmth radiating through her entire body, she sighed. “Yeah, I think that might just have done it.”
“Good,” he said. “Also, I suppose it negates the whole are we supposed to kiss at the end of this date nonsense that I always screw up.”
“Oh, after that one, we better,” she said.
And, as Moulton had hoped, thoughts of her father’s sudden appearance seemed very distant.
***
Dinner went much better than she could have hoped. Once they wrestled around the topic of her father showing up and then continued onward after Moulton’s unexpected kiss, it went very smoothly. They talked about learning the ins and outs of the bureau, music, movies, acquaintances and stories from their time at the academy, their interests and hobbies. It felt natural in a way she had not been expecting.
Sadly, it made her wish she’d gotten rid of Steven sooner. If this was what she had missed out on by taking herself off of the dating scene for him, she had missed out on a lot.
They’d finished eating but stuck around for a few more drinks. It was another opportunity for Moulton to display his care and affection as he stopped at two drinks while Chloe had a third. He even asked if she’d feel more comfortable taking a cab if she was uncomfortable with him getting behind the wheel.
He took her back to her apartment, pulling up to the curb a little after ten o’clock. She was far from drunk but had a nice enough buzz going to wonder about things she might not otherwise entertain.
“I had a great time,” Moulton said. “I’d like to do it again very soon if you don’t think it will get in the way of work.”
“Me, too. Thanks for finally asking me.”
“Thanks for saying yes.”
Never one to claim she was a master at the art of seduction, she responded to that comment by leaning in and kissing him. Like the kiss in the restaurant, it started slow but then started to build. His hand was suddenly on the side of her face, slipping down to the back of her neck to pull her closer. The armrest was between them and she found herself tilting her body to allow her hand to find his chest.
She wasn’t sure how long the kiss went on. It was slow and wildly romantic. When they parted, Chloe found herself slightly out of breath.
“So, we’ve already covered the fact that I never really got to date,” she said. “So if I do this next part wrong, you’ll have to forgive me.”
“What part?”
She hesitated a moment but the three drinks urged her on. “I want to invite you in. I’d make the claim that it’s for coffee or another drink, but that would be a lie.”
Moulton looked genuinely surprised. It was a look that made her wonder if he had misread her. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“That sounded bad,” she said, embarrassed. “What I meant was…I’d like to do this without an armrest between us. But I’m not…I’m not going to sleep with you.”
Even in the dim light, she could see his face redden at this comment. “I never would have expected you to.”
She nodded, a little embarrassed herself. “So…do you want to come in?”
“I really, really do.”
With that, he kissed her. This time, it was a bit more playful. In the midst of it, he elbowed the armrest in jest.
She broke away from him and opened her door. As they walked to the stoop of her building, she could not remember the last time she’d felt herself so…so floaty.
Floaty, she thought with a smile. It was a word Danielle had once used in explaining what it felt like to come down off of the physical high of an orgasm. The memory suddenly had Chloe feeling warm all over, reaching out and taking Moulton’s hand as they entered the building.
They took the elevator and when the doors closed, Chloe surprised herself by pressing him against the elevator wall and kissing him. Now able to properly place her hands on him, she grabbed him by his waist and pulled him to her. This kiss was a bit more passionate, hinting at so much more she wanted to do to him in that moment.
He was just as eager, his hands finding the small of her back. When he pressed her closer to him and their bodies met, she let out the tiniest of gasps. It was a little embarrassing.
The elevator came to a stop and she pulled away. She could only imagine the looks on the faces of the people she shared the building with if they caught her making out in an elevator. She was relieved to find that Moulton looked a little out of sorts and was breathing a little heavily.
She led him down the hallway, four doors down to her apartment. It then occurred to her that other than Danielle, Moulton would be the only person to have visited her apartment.
It’s a shame I don’t plan on wasting time with a tour, she thought.
It was yet another thought that made her feel a little embarrassed. She had never felt quite this physically needy when it came to a man. After a while, sex had become this formulaic, expected thing with Steven. And if she was being honest with herself, the times she had been left satisfied had been few and far between. And because of that, she hadn’t really had much of a desire for any sort of intimacy with him.
Chloe unlocked the door and they stepped inside. She flipped on the kitchen light and hung her purse on one of the barstools.
“How long have you been here?” Moulton asked.
“Six months or so, I guess. I don’t really have much company.”
Moulton stepped to her and placed a hand at her waist. When they leaned in and kissed, it was slow and purposeful. It only took a few moments before he gently pressed her against the bar and their kiss deepened. Chloe felt herself growing breathless again, feeling a level of desire she had not felt since becoming intimate with a boy for the first time in high school.
She broke the kiss long enough to lead him to the couch, where they sat next to one another and immediately continued. It felt good to simply be with a man in such a way, especially one who made her feel like this. If she included the portion of her relationship with Steven where physical intimacy had practically gone cold, she had not been kissed and touched by a man like this in about a year and a half.
Eventually, after what felt like mere seconds but was in reality more like five minutes, she was leaning into him and he had no choice but to lie down. Chloe lay on top of him and when she did, one of his hands found its way up the back of her shirt. That small skin-on-skin touch pushed Chloe to an edge she did not see coming. She sighed against him and he responded by slipping his hand further up her back and running it along the side of her bra.
She sat up, straddling him, and smiled down at him. Her head felt like it was swimming and every muscle in her body was begging for more.
“I meant what I said,” she said almost apologetically. “I can’t sleep with you. Not so soon. I know it might seem old-fashioned…”
“Chloe, it’s fine. You tell me when it’s enough and we’re good. Tell me when I’ve worn out my welcome.”
She smiled down at him. The response was almost enough to make her change her mind. But she felt strongly that they should not be rushing this. Sitting on top of him on her couch was already pushing her limits.
“The welcome won’t be worn out,” she said. “Would I sound like too much of a headcase if I asked you to stay? No sex, but like…actually sleeping together?”
The offer seemed to surprise him. She supposed it was rather strange.
And do you know why you’re asking such a thing? It was Danielle’s voice in her head, always mocking but also helpful at the same time. It’s because Dad showed up today and screwed your world up. You want Moulton here so you won’t be alone tonight.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “That seems conflicting and dumb and—”
“No, it’s okay,” Moulton said. “That sounds nice. I do have one thing to ask, though.”
“What’s that?”
“More kissing, please,” he said with a smile.
She returned the smile and happily obliged.
***
She stirred awake some time later to Moulton getting off of the couch. She lifted herself up on one elbow. Her shirt had come off during their make-out session but that had been it. It had been weird to fall asleep on her couch with her pants on but she was oddly proud of their restraint. She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was 5:10 in the morning.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I just…I felt weird sleeping over. I didn’t want it to be weird in the morning. I thought it might be best if I left. But at least there’s not the added awkwardness of sex.”
“Maybe that was my plan all along,” she joked.
“Should I rush out and we pretend this didn’t happen?” Moulton asked.
“I think I’d like you to stay. I’ll put some coffee on.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think I’d really like that, actually.”
She slipped her shirt back on and made her way into the kitchen. She went about setting the coffee up while Moulton slid his own shirt back on.
“So it’s Thursday,” he said. “I don’t know why, but it feels like Saturday.”
“Is it because what we did last night is usually reserved for Friday nights? A way to kick off the weekend?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t done something like that for a while.”
“Get out of here,” she said as she set the coffee maker to brew.
“Seriously. Junior year of high school, I think. That was good year for me in terms of make-out sessions without the sex.”
“Well, you apparently didn’t miss a beat. Last night was…well, it was much more than I was expecting when you picked me up.”
“Same here.”
“But I’m glad it happened,” she added quickly. “All of it.”
“Good. Maybe we can do it again. This weekend, maybe?”
“Maybe,” she said. “But my restraint is already feeling weakened.”
“Maybe that was my plan after all,” he said with a sultry smile.
She blushed and looked away quickly. She was a little taken aback by how much she enjoyed seeing him in such a flirty state.
“Look,” she said. “I need to grab a shower. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge if you want breakfast. There’s not much there, though.”
“Thanks,” he said, seemingly unable to take his eyes away from her.
She left him in the kitchen and went into the bedroom, which the larger bathroom was connected to. She stripped down, turned on the water, and stepped into the shower. She almost felt like giggling over how the night had gone. It had made her feel like a teenager, enjoying the feeling of him there with her and feeling comfortable enough with him to know that he wasn’t going to pester her for sex. It had been romantic in an odd way and there had been two moments where she had nearly gone back on her claim of not sleeping with him. With a glee she was not used to, she secretly hoped he might decide to summon up the nerve to come join her under the water.
If he does, all restraint is going out the window, she thought.
She was just about done with her shower when she did indeed hear him enter the bathroom.
Better late than never, she thought. Her entire body tensed up with excitement and she found herself instantly eager for him to join her.
“Hey, Chloe?”
“Yes?” she asked, a bit provocatively.
“Your phone just rang. Maybe I was being nosy…but I looked. It was from the bureau line.”
“Really? I wonder if something has come up…”
She then heard the ringing of another cell phone. This one was closer, presumably in Moulton’s hand. Chloe peeked out of the shower, pulling the curtain slightly to the side. They exchanged a look before Moulton answered his phone.
“This is Moulton,” he answered. He stepped back out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. Realizing why, Chloe turned off the water. She grabbed a towel from the rack and stepped out, grinning at him when he stared while she quickly wrapped the towel around her. Just because they had made out for about an hour and a half last night did not instantly mean she was okay with him seeing her completely naked.
There wasn’t much of a conversation to eavesdrop on. It was mainly just Moulton listening and saying, “Okay…yes, sir…” a few times.
The call lasted about a minute and when he was done, he comically poked his head into the bathroom.
“Is it okay for me to come in?”
Wrapped in a towel that covered all of her private spots, she nodded. “Yes. Who was that?”
“That was Assistant Director Garcia. He said he tried to call you but you must have slept through it.” He smiled at her and then went on. “He said I should call you or come by and wake you up. There’s a case they want us on.”
She chuckled as she stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. “You think last night will affect the way we work together?”
“It might cause me to sneak into your motel room after hours. Other than that…I don’t know. We’ll see.”
“Would you pour me a cup of coffee? I need to get dressed.”
“I was sort of hoping I could use your shower.”
“Of course. Though it would have been nicer if you’d asked ten minutes ago when I was still in there.”
“I’ll know better next time,” he said.
As he went to the shower and Chloe started to get dressed, she realized that she was happy. Quite happy, in fact. Throwing a new case on top of all that had happened last night…it seemed as if her day had not been devastated by the sudden appearance of her father at all.
But if living with such an estranged family history had taught her anything, it was that you never truly escaped it. One way or the other, it always seemed to catch up with you.
CHAPTER FOUR
At roughly the same moment Chloe was being reminded what it felt like to lose herself in a man, her sister was in the middle of a nightmare.
Danielle Fine was dreaming about her mother again. It was a recurring dream she’d been having since the age of twelve or so—one that seemed to take on a different meaning with each stage of life Danielle entered into. The dream was always the same, never changing in detail or plot.
In the dream, her mother was chasing her down a long hallway. Only, it was the version of her mother that she and Chloe had discovered that day as young girls. Bleeding, wide-eyed, and lifeless. For some reason, the dream had always assumed she’d broken a leg in the fall (even though there were no official reports of any kind that had ever suggested such a thing) so the dream version of her mother dragged herself across the floor in pursuit of her daughter.
Despite the injury, her dead mother was always right on her heels, just a few fingertips away from grabbing her little ankle and pulling her down to the floor. Danielle ran away from the grisly vision in terror, her eyes cast to the end of the hallway. And there, standing in a doorway that seemed a universe away, was her father.
He would always be kneeling, opening his arms to her with a huge smile on his face. But there was blood dripping from his hands and in a moment of dream-panic that always woke her up, Danielle would stop running, stuck between her dead mother and her maniacal father, unsure of which direction was the safest.
It was no different now. The dream came to a crashing conclusion, jarring Danielle awake. She sat up in bed slowly, so accustomed to the dream now that she knew what it was even before she was fully awake. Groggily, she looked over to the clock and saw that it was only 11:30. She’d only been asleep for about an hour this time before the dream had come sneaking in.
She lay back down, knowing that it would take a while before she’d be able to go back to sleep. She shook the dream away, having learned many years ago how to shut it out by reminding herself that there was nothing she could have done to keep her mother from dying. Even if she had come clean with all of her little secrets about things she had seen and heard and experienced in regards to her father’s toxic personality, there was nothing she could have said or done that would have kept her mother alive.
She turned over and looked toward the bedside table. She almost reached for the phone to call Chloe. It had been three weeks since they’d last spoken. It had been tense and awkward and it had been her fault. She knew she had been projecting a lot of negativity toward Chloe, primarily because Chloe didn’t hate their father with the venom and angst that she did. It had been Danielle who had made the call three weeks ago, realizing that Chloe was waiting for her to make the next move since the last conversation they’d had before that had not gone so well—with Danielle practically telling her sister not to reach out.
But she didn’t know Chloe’s schedule. She had no idea if 11:30 was too late. Truth be told, Danielle had been having trouble falling asleep before two in the morning as of late. Tonight was one of her rare nights off from the lounge and also a night where she was not needed for any sort of sign-offs or approvals for the renovation of the bar her boyfriend bought for her.
She quickly pushed all thoughts of work out of her head as she searched for sleep. If she started thinking about work and everything on her plate, she would never get back to sleep.
Once again, she thought of Chloe. She wondered what sorts of dreams and nightmares her sister had about their parents. She wondered if she was still hung up on the idea of freeing their father and, if so, whether she had decided to keep it to herself.
Eventually, sleep caught back up to her. When it did, Danielle’s last thought was of her sister. She thought of Chloe and wondered if it was finally time to forgive and forget—to let the memories of their father stop roadblocking her from a meaningful relationship with Chloe.
She was surprised at how happy the thought made her…so happy that when she did fall asleep again, there were the thinnest little traces of a smile on her face.
***
The young bartender who had been hired as her replacement had caught on quickly. She was twenty years old, drop-dead gorgeous, and was like some sort of savant at reading drunk men. Because she was doing so well, Danielle was able to meet with her boyfriend and the contractors at the building that would be her own pub and restaurant in about a month and a half.
Today, there was HVAC work being done, as well as some last-minute paneling in a back room that would serve as a reserved room for larger parties. When she arrived at the scene, her boyfriend was looking over a contract with an electrician. They were sitting at one of the tables that had recently been unpacked—one of three set-ups Danielle was supposed to choose from in terms of the types of tables she’d have in the restaurant.
Her boyfriend saw her as she entered. He quickly said something to the electrician and then came over to meet her. His name was Sam Dekker and while he wasn’t necessarily the most honest or intelligent man, he made up for it in rugged good looks and a shrewd yet refined business acumen. He was about eight inches taller than she was so when he gave her a quick kiss, he had to lean down to do so.
“Reporting for duty,” she said. “What can I do today?”
Sam shrugged, looking around the place in an almost theatrical fashion. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s too much you can do. It’s all starting to fall into place. I know it might seem silly, but you might want to start looking through the ABC catalogue and figure out which brands of liquor you prefer to serve. Go ahead and figure out where you want the little overhead speakers for music and things like that. Those are the sorts of things that get lost in the shuffle and suddenly pop up as last-minute nuisances near the end of the project.”
“I guess I can do that,” she said, a little disappointed.
There were days when she stepped onto the renovation site and felt as if Sam was really just entertaining her—giving her menial tasks to do so he could handle the important things. It felt degrading in a sense but she also had to remind herself that Sam knew what he was doing. He had opened three bars that were doing incredibly well, one of which he sold to some big national company last year for more than ten million dollars.
And now he was choosing to back her in her own little endeavor. It was an endeavor that he’d had to talk her into. He insisted that she had the smarts to run a place like this, but only after all of the moving parts had been set into place.
Most girls that date semi-wealthy guys get jewelry and cars, she thought as she walked to the soon-to-be lounge area. Me…I got a bar. Not a bad deal, I guess.
She did feel a little out of her depth most of the time when she thought about the road ahead. She’d actually be in charge of a place. She’d be running things and making decisions. There was also a degree of guilt to it as well. She felt the opportunity had been handed to her for no real reason other than she had happened to end up in a relationship with a guy that knew how to get businesses started. As a result, she was aware that there were many things she had to sacrifice and things she simply allowed Sam to get away with. She never questioned his late nights out, always buying the stories that he was in meetings or with contractors, wining and dining them. She’d been a part of some of those meetings, so she knew it was true—most of the time.
She also felt that she had to show her appreciation as often as she could. That meant not nagging when she didn’t see him for several days. It meant not getting too up in arms when he expected certain things in the bedroom. It meant not getting pissy because despite buying her a bar and trusting her to run it, the whole idea of marriage had not been mentioned a single time. Danielle was pretty sure Sam had no intentions of getting married. And for now, she was fine with that, so she saw no reason to argue about it.
Besides…what did she have to complain about? She’d finally met a guy who treated her like royalty—when he was around—and she seemed to be on a path to easily earned success.
It’s because most things that seem too good to be true usually are, she thought.
When she reached the room that was going to be the lounge area, she pulled the digital blueprints up on her phone. She made indications where the speakers could go and also made a note about potentially adding some sort of tinted window along the back wall. It was in doing things like this that she felt the dream of it all becoming a reality. Somehow, this was all really happening to her.
“Hey…”
She turned and saw Sam standing in the framed doorway. He was smiling at her and looking at her with the hungry expression he often shot her way when he was feeling frisky.
“Hey yourself,” she said.
“I know it seems like I just brushed you off,” he said. “But really…these next few weeks, all I’m really going to need from you are a few signatures.”
“You’re working me too hard,” she joked.
“I fully intended for your training with the newbie at the bar to take longer. It’s not my fault we ended up hiring a bartending genius.” He approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She had to look up into his eyes but it always made her feel safe for some odd reason; it made her feel like this man would always literally watch over her.
“Let’s grab lunch later today,” Sam said. “Something simple. Pizza and beer.”
“Sounds good.”
“And tomorrow…what do you say we go somewhere. A beach…South Carolina or somewhere like that.”
“Really? That seems spontaneous and very much like a burden to all of this work around us. In other words…it sounds nothing like you.”
“I know. But I’ve been getting so wrapped up in this project and…I realize I’ve been neglecting you. So I want to make it up to you.”
“Sam, you’re giving me my own business. That’s more than enough.”
“Fine. I’ll be selfish about it then. I want to get away from all of this and be naked and alone with you near the ocean. That sound better?”
“It does, actually.”
“Good. So go to the bar, check in on the newbie. I’ll pick you up for lunch around noon.”
She kissed him and although he was clearly rushing it, the sentiment of everything he had just said did not escape her. She knew it was hard for him to be emotional and sincere. She rarely saw that side of him so when she did, she dared not question it.
Danielle walked back through the mostly open spaces of the old brick building that would soon be her bar-slash-lounge. It was hard to think of it as hers, but that was very much the case.
When she stepped outside, the sun seemed brighter than it had when she had gone in. She smiled, still trying to make sense of everything her life had become. She thought of Chloe again and made the decision to call her in the next few days. Everything else in her life was going so well, she may as well try repairing the tense relationship between her and Chloe, too.
She got into her car and headed back to Sam’s other bar—the bar he had hired her to work in six months ago. She was so distracted by the thought of going away with him for the weekend that she didn’t notice the car parked on the side of the street as it inched out into traffic behind her.
If she had noticed it, she might have recognized the driver, though she hadn’t seen him in a very long time.
Still, did a daughter ever truly forget what the face of her father looked like?