See Me

  "Why? It wouldn't bother me."

  "I have no doubt you'd do it. For you, it's no big deal. But it's different for women. Coming out here, all alone--some guys might think it's an invitation. And what if some crazy man sat next to me and started hitting on me? Like someone who'd done drugs and was on probation and had a history of going to bars so he could fight strangers and stomp on people's heads... Oh, wait!" She feigned horror as she suddenly turned toward him.

  He laughed. "What if he said he'd changed?"

  "At first, I probably wouldn't believe him."

  "What if he was charming?"

  "He'd have to be really, really charming, but even then, I'd probably rather be alone."

  "Even if he changed your tire in the middle of a storm?"

  "I'd definitely be grateful for the way he helped me out, but I don't know if it would make much difference. Even crazy people can do something nice once in a while."

  "That's probably a wise decision. A guy like that might be dangerous and definitely not someone you'd want to be alone with."

  "Obviously," she said. "Of course, there's always the possibility that he really had changed and that he happened to be a nice guy, which means I'd be out of luck. Since I never even gave him a chance, I mean."

  "I can understand how that might be a problem."

  "Anyway, that's why I don't come out to the beach alone. It just eliminates the whole issue."

  "Makes sense. Still, I have to admit that I'm not quite sure how I feel about what you just said."

  "Good," she answered, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. "Then we're even. I haven't known how to feel about a lot of what you've told me."

  Though he wasn't sure if she was flirting, he liked how natural it felt when she touched him. "How about we change the subject to safer ground?"

  "Like what?"

  "Tell me about your family. You said you have a lot of relatives in town?"

  "My grandparents on both sides still live in Mexico, but three aunts and four uncles live in Wilmington, along with over twenty cousins. And we throw some rocking family parties."

  "Sounds fun."

  "It is. A lot of them either work or used to work at La Cocina de la Familia, so the restaurant was like our second home. Growing up, I probably spent more time there than at the house."

  "Yeah?"

  She nodded. "When I was little, my parents had this play area set up in the back so my mom could watch me, and when I started school, I'd do my homework in the office. After Serena was born, I'd watch Serena in the play area until my mom's shift ended, and then when Serena was older, I started working there, too. But the strange thing is, I never remember feeling like I came in second to the restaurant, or even like it dominated my life. Not only because my whole family was there, but because my parents were always popping in to check on me and make sure I was okay. And when we were at home, it didn't feel much different. We always had relatives over. A lot of them lived with us until they saved enough money to get their own place. For a kid, there's nothing better. There was always something going on; people talking or playing or cooking or listening to music. It was always loud, but it was good energy. Happy energy."

  He tried to match her account with the woman sitting beside him, finding it surprisingly easy.

  "How old were you when you started working at the restaurant?"

  "Fourteen," she said. "I worked there after school and every summer and Christmas break until I graduated from law school. My parents thought it would be good for me to earn my own spending money."

  "You sound proud of them."

  "Wouldn't you be? Though I must admit that I'm not quite sure what my parents would think if they knew I was with you today."

  "I have a pretty good idea of what they might think."

  She laughed, lighthearted and unrestrained.

  "You want to try tossing the Frisbee around?"

  "I'll try. Don't say I didn't warn you."

  She hadn't been lying. She wasn't very good; nearly all of her tosses veered off course, some hitting the sand and others getting caught in the breeze. Colin zigzagged gamely, trying to rescue the Frisbee before it hit the ground while hearing her call out, "I'm sorry!" Whenever she succeeded in making an accurate throw or catching the Frisbee, she reveled with almost childlike glee.

  Through it all, she kept up a steady chatter. She told him about her trips to Mexico to visit her grandparents and described the tiny cinder-block houses where both sets had lived their entire lives. She touched on her high school years, along with a few of her college and law school experiences, and shared a few stories about working at the DA's office. He was perplexed at how her first boyfriend could have let her go and why no one else had come along since. Could anyone be so blind? He didn't know and didn't care: All he really knew for sure was that he was unbelievably lucky that she'd wandered out to the pier.

  Abandoning the Frisbee, he'd grabbed the Hacky Sack and heard her laugh aloud. "Not a chance," she said before collapsing on her towel. Colin sat beside her, feeling the weariness of an active day in the sun and noticing that Maria's skin had taken on a buttery glow. They finished the rest of their water, sipping slowly as they watched the waves.

  "I think I'd like to watch you fight," she said, turning toward him.

  "Okay," he said.

  "When's the next one?"

  "Not for a few weeks. It's at the House of Blues in North Myrtle Beach."

  "Who are you fighting?"

  "I don't know yet."

  "How can you not know who you're fighting?"

  He ran his fingers through the sand. "In amateur events, the ticket isn't always finished until the day before. It all depends on who wants to fight, who's ready to fight, who's available to fight. And, of course, who actually signs up to fight."

  "Does that make you nervous? Not knowing?"

  "Not really."

  "What if he's like... a giant or something?"

  "There are weight classes, so that's not a concern. My main worry is if the guy panics and breaks the rules. Some of the guys who show up in these amateur events don't have a lot of experience in the cage, and it's easy to lose control. That's what happened when my last opponent head-butted me. They had to stop the fight so I could get the bleeding under control, but the ref didn't catch it. My coach was going nuts."

  "And you actually enjoy that?"

  "It comes with the territory," he said. "The good news is that I got the guy in a guillotine choke hold in the next round and he had to tap out. And I did enjoy that part."

  "You do realize that's not normal, right?"

  "Okay."

  "And just so we're clear, I don't care whether you win or lose, but I don't want you to get all bloodied and bruised."

  "I'll do my best."

  She furrowed her brow. "Wait--the House of Blues? Isn't that a restaurant?"

  "Among other things. But it has enough room. Amateur events don't usually draw much of a crowd."

  "I'm shocked! Who wouldn't want to watch men trying to beat the hell out of each other? What is wrong with society these days?"

  He grinned. She wrapped her arms around her knees as she'd done the night before, but this time, he could feel her shoulder brushing against his own. "How did the photos turn out?" he asked. "The ones of the porpoises?"

  Maria reached for her camera and clicked to the display before handing it to him. "I think this one's the best," she said. "But there are a few more. Just use the arrow button there to go through them."

  He stared at the image of the three porpoises. "It's incredible," he said. "It's almost like they were posing."

  "Sometimes I get lucky. The light was just right." She leaned toward him, her arm grazing his. "There are others that I've taken in the last month that I liked, too."

  He used the back arrow, scanning a long series of photos: pelicans and ospreys, a close-up of a butterfly, a mullet caught in midjump. When she leaned further into him to follow along, he caught th
e scent of wildflowers in the heat.

  At the end of the series, she finally pulled back. "You should frame some of these," he said, handing her the camera.

  "I do," she said. "But just the better ones."

  "Better than these?"

  "You'd be the one to judge," she said. "Of course, you'd have to come over first, since they're hanging on my walls."

  "I'd think I'd like that, Maria."

  Maria turned toward the water again, a slight smile playing on her lips, and it seemed odd to think that it was only yesterday that he'd spotted her at the end of the pier. Or how well he'd come to know her in such a short period of time. And how much he wanted to know even more about her.

  "We should probably get going," she said, a note of regret in her voice. "Before it starts getting too dark."

  He nodded, feeling a stab of disappointment as they rose to gather up their things. They paddled back, reaching Wrightsville Beach just as the first stars were emerging. Colin helped Maria strap the boards and paddles to the top of her car before turning to face her. Watching her brush the hair from her eyes, he felt oddly nervous, something he could never remember happening with a woman before.

  "I had a great time today."

  "Paddleboarding is a lot of fun," she agreed.

  "I wasn't talking about the paddleboarding," he said. He shifted from one foot to the other, and he had the impression that she was waiting for him to finish. "I was talking about spending time with you."

  "Yeah?" she asked, her voice soft.

  "Yeah." Colin was sure she was more beautiful than any woman he'd ever known.

  "What are you doing next weekend?"

  "Other than brunch on Sunday, I don't have anything planned."

  "Do you want to go to that warehouse Serena told you about? On Saturday night?"

  "Are you asking me to go dancing?"

  "I'd like to get to know the less typical Maria, the one who can really be herself."

  "Because the quieter version isn't your type?"

  "No," he said. "Actually, it's just the opposite. And I already know how I feel about that Maria."

  Crickets were calling from the dunes, serenading them like nature's orchestra. They were alone, and as she stared up at him, he stepped toward her, instinct taking over. He wondered if she'd turn away and break the spell, but she didn't. Instead, she stayed in place as he moved even nearer, one arm slowly going around her back. He pulled her close, their lips coming together, and at that moment, he suddenly knew that this was what he'd wanted all along. He'd wanted her, in his arms, just like this, forever.

  Colin took his time getting home, driving through Wilmington's prettier back streets and basking in the warm afterglow of his day with Maria. His body felt surprisingly well used by the afternoon of paddleboarding, his mind still circling the mystery of Maria. Getting out of his car, he was just ambling across the newly cut lawn toward his apartment when he heard Lily calling from the porch, her cell phone in hand.

  "There you are," she said, her drawl almost a singsong. As always, she was perfectly coiffed. Tonight, though, in something of a rarity, she was wearing jeans--albeit with pumps, a pearl necklace, tastefully sized diamond studs, and a gardenia artfully pinned in her hair.

  "What are you doing out here?" he asked, veering toward her.

  "I was speaking to my mother while I was waiting for you," she answered, skipping down the steps toward him. Lily was the only girl he knew who actually skipped when she was happy. She leaned in for a hug. "Evan told me you were going on a date today and I want to hear all about it before we go inside."

  "Where's Evan?"

  "He's on the computer researching some pharmaceutical company for his clients. You know how serious he is about his work, bless his heart. But don't try to change the subject. For now, we're going to sit on the steps while you tell me about this special young woman, and I won't take no for an answer. And don't leave anything out. I want to hear everything."

  She took a seat on the steps, patting the spot beside her. Colin knew he had no choice but to do as he'd been told, and he gave her the basics. Lily interrupted frequently, pressing him for details. When he finished, she squinted at him, obviously disappointed.

  "You really must work on your storytelling skills, Colin," she chided. "All you did was recite a list of activities and the topics you talked about."

  "How else was I supposed to tell it?"

  "That's a silly question. You were supposed to make me fall in love with her, too."

  "Why would I want to do that?"

  "Because even as poorly as you told the story, it's obvious that you're smitten with her."

  He said nothing.

  "Colin?" she said. "This is exactly what I mean. What you should have said was something like, 'When I'm with Maria... I just... I...' and then trail off and shake your head because words are inadequate to convey the intensity of what you're experiencing."

  "That sounds more like you than me."

  "I know," she said, sounding almost sorry for him. "That's what makes you such a poor storyteller, bless your heart."

  Only Lily could insult him in a way that made it sound as though it was harder for her to say than for him to hear. "How do you know I'm smitten with her?" he asked.

  She sighed. "If you didn't enjoy spending the day in her presence, you would have given me that blank look of yours and said, 'There's nothing to talk about,' when I asked you about her. And all that, of course, brings the primary question to mind: When will I have the chance to meet her?"

  "I'd have to ask her."

  "And do you have immediate plans to spend more time with your lady friend?"

  Colin hesitated, wondering if anyone besides Lily still used the term lady friend. "We're supposed to go out next weekend."

  "Not to a bar, I hope."

  "No," he said. He told her about the warehouse.

  "Do you think that's a wise decision? Considering what happened the last time you went to a club with Evan and me?"

  "I just want to take her dancing."

  "Dancing can be very romantic," she admitted. "And yet..."

  "It'll be fine. I promise."

  "Then I shall take you at your word. Of course, you should also swing by her office sometime this week and surprise her with flowers or candy. Women love to receive those sorts of thoughtful gifts, though I've always held the opinion that candy is better during the cool months. So maybe just flowers."

  "That's not my style."

  "Of course it isn't, which is why I made the suggestion. Trust me. She'll be thrilled."

  "Okay."

  At his answer, she reached over and patted his hand. "Haven't we talked about this? Saying 'okay' when people talk to you? It's a habit you really need to break. It's very unattractive."

  "Okay."

  "And so it goes." She sighed. "One day, you'll understand the wisdom of my words."

  Behind them, Evan opened the door, catching sight of her hand on Colin's, but Evan understood the relationship between the three of them the same way Colin did.

  "Let me guess. You're grilling him about his date?" he asked his fiancee.

  "I was doing no such thing," Lily huffed. "Ladies do not grill. I simply inquired how he believed their date went, and though Colin--poor thing--nearly put me to sleep at first, I do think our friend here is smitten."

  Evan laughed. "Colin? Smitten? Those two things just don't go together."

  "Colin, would you please inform my fiance as to the truth of this matter?"

  Colin hooked a thumb toward her. "She thinks I'm smitten."

  "As I said," Lily noted, sounding satisfied. "Now that we've gotten to the truth of the matter," she went on, "when do you plan on calling your new lady friend?"

  "I haven't thought about it."

  "Have you learned nothing from me?" She shook her head. "Before you even shower, you must--you absolutely must--give your lady friend a call. And you must also tell her how wonderful she made you feel,
and that you were honored by the pleasure of her company."

  "Don't you think that's a little much?"

  Lily sounded almost sad. "Colin... I know you struggle when it comes to expressing your sensitive side, and that is a flaw in your character that I've always been willing to overlook, if only out of dear friendship. But you will call her this evening. As soon as you walk in the door. Because gentlemen--real gentlemen--always call, and I only associate with gentlemen."

  Evan raised his eyebrows and Colin knew he had no choice.

  "Okay."

  CHAPTER 8

  Maria

  On Monday, Maria thought it best to hide out in her office, where she could concentrate in peace. Barney's stress level about the upcoming trial was escalating, and she didn't want to become an unwitting target. Closing her door, she jotted notes in preparation for a midmorning meeting with clients, made some phone calls, and responded to e-mails, wanting to get a jump on the week. And yet, despite her desire for efficiency, every now and then she'd catch herself staring out the window, replaying images from the weekend.

  Some of her distraction had to do with Colin's phone call on Sunday night. If friends and magazines spoke the truth, guys didn't call right away, and most of them never called at all. Then again, everything about Colin verged on the unexpected. After hanging up, she'd examined the photo that she'd taken of him and imagined that she saw in it both the Colin she knew and Colin the stranger. His expression was gentle, but his body was a map of scars and tattoos. Though she'd promised to show Serena, she decided then and there that the photo would be for her eyes only.

  "Someone's in a good mood."

  At the sound, Maria saw Jill in the doorway.

  "Oh, hey, Jill. What's up?"

  "I suppose I should be asking you," she said, entering. "You were definitely lost in your own dreamy little world when I peeked in, and no one does that on Mondays."

  "I had a good weekend."

  "Yeah?" she asked. "By the way you just said it, I'm assuming that it went way better than my depositions last week. This has to be the first time I ever found myself actually praying I could return to the office."

  "That bad?"

  "Awful."

  "You want to talk about it?"

  "Only if you want to die of boredom. And anyway, I have a conference call in a few minutes. I mainly dropped by to see if you're doing anything for lunch. I'm dying for some sushi and good company now that I'm back in the saddle."