Chapter 6

6

"I'm very concerned," my mother said through the sound system of my car as soon as I answered.

I didn't have to ask what she was concerned about. It was the morning after the dinner where I told her I had quit my job and I'd put out my shingle and was giving this self-employment gig a shot. I also didn't have to ask what she was concerned about because she'd already voiced her concern.

"Good morning, Mom," I returned, choosing to ignore her rude opening.

"Now's not the time, Sophie."

One could say my mother only listened to parts of conversations she wanted to listen to. She discarded the rest and did what she wanted. Nathan, on the other hand, had looked proud as I stumbled my way through an awkward ramble explaining to my mom I didn't love the way she was always nagging and in my business. Of course I didn't use those words. I used nicer words. Now I was seeing the error of my ways. Much like what happened with Sydni, direct was the way to go. My problem was I didn't care I was never going to see Sydni again, and my mom was my mom. As strained as our relationship was I didn't want to go the rest of my life not speaking to her. Obviously I needed to find another way.

"You could just tell me you're proud of me," I whispered.

"Proud of you?" she asked back like the concept was foreign.

And that got me thinking; had my mother ever told me she was proud of anything I'd ever done?

"Or you could tell me that it'll be a lot of hard work to get my business going but you know I can do it," I offered.

"Lying to you to make you feel good doesn't actually do you any good. I'm your mother, not one of your friends."

I stared unseeing through the windshield of my car as my mom's words penetrated.

Lying to you…

So she wasn't proud of me and she didn't believe I could own my own business and make it successful.

"You're almost forty. It's time you start thinking about your future. You live in an apartment with a roommate. No job. No financial security. No retirement..."

I stopped listening when I saw Valentine jump out of his truck and watched as he walked across the parking lot toward Hot Java. Which reminded me; with my mother's call I'd yet to go in and get my coffee.

As if he sensed someone staring at him, Valentine scanned the cars in the lot until his gaze landed on me. He changed directions and I continued to watch his now purposeful strides bringing him to me.

God, he was beautiful.

And the last person I wanted to see.

"Are you listening to me?" my mother scoffed.

"No."

"No?"

Now she wasn't sneering. She was screeching.

Sigh .

Did life have to be this complicated?

"No, Mother, I stopped listening when you started your usual refrain about what you feel are my shortcomings. Though I admit I wasn't really listening after you told me you weren't proud of me and didn't believe in me."

"I said no such thing, Sophie."

Yes, she did. But there was no point arguing about it. Nonetheless, it was worth noting she sounded affronted I'd suggest such a thing.

Valentine was fast approaching and I wanted this call to be over for more than one reason. Mostly due to the fact my mother hadn't listened to a word I'd said last night. But also because even though my windows were rolled up I didn't want to chance Valentine hearing my conversation.

"I have to go."

"We're not done, Soph?—"

She might not have been done, but I was and proved that by ending the call.

It almost felt good hanging up on my mother. So good in fact I wondered why I hadn't done just that anytime she decided to lay into me about what she felt were my poor life choices.

I wasn't in debt. I had a savings account. I didn't gamble, steal, cheat. I paid my taxes. I owned my car outright. I didn't do drugs, never had tried any, and only drank responsibly. I'd never been arrested or had any run-ins with the police. I'd been an obedient daughter. I'd never snuck out of the house, taken her car for an underaged joyride, thrown wild parties. Sure, I'd talked back as a teenager—on occasion I'd been what my mother called cheeky—but I'd never been disrespectful and I'd been a good student.

Yet, I still wasn't good enough.

With my mind full of my mother I'd missed Valentine stopping at the side of my car but I didn't miss him tapping on the window.

After my embarrassing run-in with his penis and my mother spreading her joyous love, I wasn't in the mood to face Hot Cop.

His head tipped a fraction, his eyes roamed my face, and for a moment I wished I knew what he was thinking as he studied me. That wish was granted when he, uninvited, opened my door.

"What's wrong?"

Before I could answer Valentine—not that I was planning on telling him a single one of the many ‘wrongs' that were swirling in my mind—his gaze shifted from me to the interior of my car.

"C'mon, honey, let's get you your coffee."

I didn't get a chance to answer that either, since he reached in, hit the stupid button that all new cars had to shut off the engine (sidenote: I missed a regular key in the ignition start) unbuckled my belt, grabbed my purse off the passenger seat, and pulled me out of the car.

"Key in your purse?"

I nodded.

"Will it lock automatically?"

I nodded again.

After that I was walking hand-in-hand with Valentine while he carried my hot-pink Valentino crossbody with gold chains and buckle I'd bought from TJ Maxx during a seriously great sale. After speaking to She-Devil, that being after I spent the night in her home sharing a meal, then going back to my apartment and spending the rest of my night bitching to Hayden about her, meaning it had been a She-Devil bitchfest until late into the evening. Further meaning I'd spent a lot of time thinking about my mother which was never fun. Thus I was surprised when I smiled.

Hot Cop Valentine carrying my hot pink Valentino .

At this point in my life it was the little things.

I was holding onto anything and everything I found amusing. If I didn't I would lose my mind.

It wasn't until we were next in line when Valentine asked me what I wanted.

"Coffee," I told him.

"Right. Anything special?"

"Does coffee come with extra caffeine and a splash of GFY?"

Valentine's smile said he knew what the abbreviation stood for.

"Not sure about the go fuck yourself but I can hook you up with extra caffeine," he said quietly.

The man in front of us stepped to the side. Valentine shuffled me forward and I was met with a beaming smile from the barista who had helped me yesterday.

"Hey, Valentine. Hey, Sophie," she chirped. "Your usual?"

"Hey, Crystal. Make it two, extra shot in Sophie's."

Her eyes widened comically.

"Oh, boy, hope you're not planning on sleeping tonight, girl," she mumbled.

Valentine handed her his card, tossed a ten spot in the tip jar. I'd waited tables in my twenties, my best friend was a bartender, I was a generous tipper, and while I couldn't math in my head that quickly by my calculations that was a seventy percent tip.

"What did you order me?" I asked.

"Extra caffeine. "

"I think I need you to expand on that. Are we talking clean-my-house-and-do-all-the-laundry caffeine or are we talking run-a-full-marathon caffeine?"

Those sexy lips twitched.

"Somewhere in the middle."

He took his card back, thanked Crystal, I did as well, and we stepped out of line.

"And you're sure there's no GFY in there?" I asked as Valentine led me to a small two-top by the window.

"Depending on if you can handle your caffeine you might find some go fuck yourself in there."

Drat .

I could handle my caffeine.

"Bummer."

"Who pissed you off?"

I glanced around the busy coffee shop and took a deep breath. Yesterday when I was here to speak to the owner about rebuilding her website the smell of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and coffee beans excited me. Today not so much.

"How long have you known Hayden?"

The corners of Valentine's mouth hitched up. If that wasn't sexy enough—which it was—when his smile dissolved into a knowing smirk my panties nearly caught fire. My guesstimation they were only slightly simmering instead of outright blazing was only because I had firsthand knowledge he was lugging around a monster in his pants and quite frankly it scared me .

"I met him when he started volunteering at the Hope Center."

Interesting.

So they'd known each other a while, but that long?

It seemed my roommate had been holding out on me. I made a mental note to give Hayden shit for not telling me about Hot Cop sooner.

"I heard about the fire."

Gone was the good-natured guy who was letting me change the subject.

"Sorry, I?—"

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said. "A good friend of mine, Phoenix's boy was trapped in that fire."

"The news said everyone made it out. He's okay, right?"

"Yeah, he's good."

If I remembered right the news had said that the fire set at Hope Center was arson. I couldn't remember the details beyond the building had been condemned. Which was a blow to the community. The Hope Center offered free services sponsored by donations for programs like after school tutoring, big brother / big sister opportunities for at-risk youth, sports, and such. Hayden went to the center twice a week to play basketball with the teenagers.

Thinking on it now, why hadn't I ever volunteered? I had free time. I could give up Saturday lounging on the couch to help out. Word was the director of the center was always trying to find new ways to engage the kids the center served. I didn't have an abundance of skills but I could help someone with homework or a school project—as long as it wasn't math. Hell, what kind of a person did it make me that I'd never even dropped off supplies from their Amazon wish list?

"You know your eyes give you away," Valentine noted. "You're back to pissed."

"Well, this time it's at myself, for being selfish instead of at my mother for being—" I snapped my mouth shut.

Damn, I had a big freaking mouth.

"Ah, trouble with the ‘rents."

"What adult says ‘rents'?"

"The kind who plays basketball and baseball with a bunch of teenagers. I'm hip on all the lingo."

A harassed-looking Crystal stopped at the side of our table and dropped two coffees in front of us.

"I want you to know, you're the only person I personally deliver coffee to. Not even your fellow brethren in blue get table service. And that's not because I don't appreciate all of you protecting and serving. It's just, they actually listen for their names being called."

"Sorry, Crys."

The woman smiled at Valentine then turned to me.

"Good luck."

With that she hustled away.

"What in the world is in this?"

"Don't ask, just drink."

Sophie from a month ago would've demanded to know every ingredient. No way would she try something new without knowing if she was going to like it. Heck, she'd refuse it outright since she didn't try new things.

What a narrow and stupidly boring life I had led.

With a tentative sip I did what I was training myself to do—explore new things.

It tasted like strong coffee and vanilla syrup.

"Well?"

"It's good."

Which meant I didn't understand what was with the ‘good luck'.

"Good. Drink up, then you can tell me why your mother is pissing you off."

That wasn't going to happen.

"I mean no offense, but I don't know you."

I was slurping back more of my vanilla drink, which was actually better than good, it was amazing, when Valentine announced, "You've seen my cock."

The ramifications of the reminder was vanilla-flavored coffee coupled with saliva drenching his black t-shirt.

"I take it you're a spitter."

My momentary shock ended in an eruption of laughter.

Valentine let this go on for a long time, which was good since I couldn't get myself under control. It was like all the stress, worry, and uncertainty of the last month had finally bubbled up and made me loopy.

But his softly spoken, "you have a great laugh" made the stress, worry, uncertainty, and the crap my mother pulled melt away.

I ended my laughter on a smile. To which he said, not in a soft murmur but in his normal rough voice, "And you have a great smile."

That was sweet.

Unbelievably sweet.

"I'll tell you about my mother if you promise never to mention your…"

"C'mon, Sophie, you can say it," he teased.

My lips pinched to stop my smile and I shook my head.

"I'm not sure if I should be offended or smug I've rendered you speechless."

"Neither. I'm not speechless, I'm flabbergasted penises come in that size," I corrected.

His lips curved up like he thought I was amusing. As much as I liked his mouth and as much as I liked seeing his smile, I needed to veer the conversation away from his penis before my curiosity got the best of me and I asked to see it again. (Strictly for research and verification purposes, of course.)

"My mother is opinionated."

Understatement.

"Right."

"And she's vocal about her opinions."

Valentine picked up his coffee, took a sip, and waited. I knew he was giving me time to parcel out the information I wanted to give him. That was again sweet. So I made the decision and decided this was the perfect opportunity to get an outsider's perspective. I knew what Hayden thought, but he was my best friend and his opinion was skewed.

"After the liquor store…incident, I quit my job. I hated it, I wasn't happy, but I stayed because I hated change more than I hated my boss. As you know I live with Hayden. I have low overhead. I have a healthy balance in my savings account so I decided to invest in me and start my own business."

He had something to say to that. "Congratulations, Sophie. Takes guts to go out on your own."

I couldn't help but to stare.

That right there was all I'd needed from the woman who'd birthed me. Just that. Simple. Nice. Thoughtful. Affirming.

"By the look on your face I take it your mother's not happy for you."

Another understatement. This time a gross underestimation of what my mother was.

"No. She has concerns ," I told him. "Loads of them, actually. Which translates to disapproval."

"Did you borrow money from her?"

"No."

"Do you owe her money?"

"No."

"Does she pay your rent? Car payment? Cellphone bill?"

"No. "

"Then why the fuck do you care if she disapproves? It's your life. If she's not financing the decisions you make, then why does she have a say?"

Good question.

Instead of answering, I picked up my coffee, glanced at Valentine over the rim, and silently begged him not to speak while I was drinking so that we didn't have another spitting incident.

"I knew you had it in you," he said through a smile after I swallowed.

"Yeah, well, don't get too excited—" I stopped abruptly, thankfully remembering at the last second, I didn't know Valentine well enough to make inappropriate jokes. "Sorry. It's arguable who has more off-colored jokes, me or Hayden. And I'd argue it's me."

"Need I remind you, we're friends. And friends joke with each other, off-color be damned."

We weren't friends. He was Hayden's friend.

While I was coming up with a proper response to his friends declaration his phone shrilled with three long tones. Or at least I thought it was his phone until he pulled a pager out of his pocket.

When his attention came back to me he was frowning.

"Sorry to cut this short. I have to get to work."

"Of course. Sorry to hold you up."

"Sophie?"

He was no longer frowning but the seriousness on his face gave me pause .

"Yeah?"

"You didn't hold me up. I asked you to coffee, so don't apologize for giving me the gift of your time."

He hadn't asked. He'd dragged me inside and bought me coffee. I didn't get a chance to remind him, and not only because he was standing. The full weight of what he'd said hit me. It was heavy, it was kind, it was all kinds of sweet, and it was something else. A feeling I couldn't place. All I knew was it felt good and warm and I wanted more of it. I wanted to snuggle under the heaviness and stay awhile.

"Have a good day, babe."

"You, too, Valentine. And be safe out there."

That earned me a smile and the warmth grew.

"Careful with that latte. There's enough caffeine in there to turn you into an over-energized honey badger."

"I make no promises."

I watched him walk out of Hot Java, thinking he had a really great ass.

Two hours later I was bouncing around my apartment with more energy than any one person should have. The kind of energy that made it impossible to concentrate on any one task. In the middle of loading the dishwasher I noticed the windows in the living room were dirty. I stopped loading dirty dishes to clean the windows. In the middle of wielding the Windex I noticed the bottom sill was filthy. I abandoned the glass to clean the sill. Then I went on to check the sills in my bedroom but as soon as I entered the room I saw the dirty piles of clothes I'd separated earlier and decided I should throw in a load. And if I was doing that, I should grab the towels and floormats in the bathroom. That led to me to noticing the ring of soap scum in the tub. So I attacked the bathroom with a bottle of Soft Scrub, forgetting about the laundry.

I'd done no work and hadn't completed a single task.

I was going to kill Valentine.