See Me

"Your sister has quite a personality," he said after a moment.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Her introduction to me included the words, 'Hey you, with the hurt face.'"

  Maria grinned, thinking that sounded exactly like Serena. "She's one of a kind, that's for sure."

  "But she's more like a friend than a sister, right?"

  "Did she tell you that?"

  "No," he said. "I noticed it while I waited on the two of you. It's easy to tell you're pretty close."

  "We are," Maria agreed. "Do you have siblings?"

  "Two older sisters."

  "Are you close?"

  "Not like you and Serena," he admitted as he adjusted the fishing line. "I love them and I care about them, but we kind of ended up taking different paths in life."

  "Which means?"

  "We don't really talk that often. Maybe once every couple of months or so. It's been improving lately, but it's a gradual process."

  "That's too bad."

  "It is what it is," he said.

  His answer suggested he didn't really want to discuss it further. "Serena said that you and she are in class together?" she asked, venturing on to safer ground.

  He nodded. "She caught up with me on the way to the library. I guess you must have told her how I looked that night and she put it all together. Which wasn't too hard, what with the hurt face and all."

  "It wasn't so bad. I didn't really think much about it." When he raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. "All right. So maybe I was a little scared when you walked up."

  "Makes sense. It was late and you were in the middle of nowhere. That's one of the reasons I stopped."

  "What was the other reason?"

  "You were a girl."

  "And you think all girls need help changing a tire?"

  "Not all girls. But my sisters and my mom would have needed help. And I didn't get the sense that you were having a lot of fun."

  She nodded. "Thank you again."

  "You already said that."

  "I know. But it deserved to be said a second time."

  "Okay."

  "Just 'okay'?" The corners of her mouth turned up.

  "It's my go-to phrase when someone makes a statement instead of asking a question."

  She wrinkled her forehead. "I suppose that makes sense."

  "Okay," he said, and despite herself, she laughed, finally beginning to relax.

  "Do you like bartending?" she asked.

  "It's all right," he answered. "It pays the bills while I'm in school, I can pretty much pick my schedule, and the tips are good. But I hope I'm not forced to make it a career. There's more I want to do with my life."

  "Serena said you want to be a teacher."

  "I do," he agreed. "Where did she go, by the way?"

  "She met up with some friends. They'll troll the bars for a while and listen to music, then probably head off to a party or whatever."

  "Why didn't you join them?"

  "I'm a little old for college parties, don't you think?"

  "I don't know. How old are you?"

  "Twenty-eight."

  "I'm twenty-eight and I'm still in college."

  Yeah, she thought, I know. "And you go to college parties?"

  "No," he conceded, "but it's not because I think I'm too old. I just don't go to parties. Bars, either."

  "But you work at a bar."

  "That's different."

  "Why?"

  "Because I work there. And even if I didn't, it's not the kind of bar where I'd end up getting in trouble, since it's really more of a restaurant."

  "You get in trouble at bars?"

  "I used to," he said. "Not anymore."

  "But you just said you don't go."

  "That's why I don't get into trouble."

  "How about clubs?"

  He shrugged. "Depends on the club and who I'm with. Usually, no. Every now and then, yes."

  "Because you get into trouble there, too?"

  "I have in the past."

  She puzzled over his answer before finally turning toward the horizon again. The moon glowed against the backdrop of a sky that was beginning its slow progression from gray to black. Colin followed her gaze, neither of them speaking for a moment.

  "What kind of trouble?" she finally asked.

  He lifted the tip of his reel, jerking the line, before answering. "Fights," he said.

  For a moment, she wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "You used to fight in bars?"

  "Up until a few years ago, I used to fight in bars all the time."

  "Why would you get into fights?"

  "Guys usually go to bars for four reasons: to get drunk, to hang with friends, to pick up girls, or to fight. I would show up for all four."

  "You wanted to fight?"

  "Usually."

  "How many times?"

  "I'm not sure I understand the question."

  "How many times did you get into fights?"

  "I can't remember exactly. Probably over a hundred."

  She blinked. "You were in over a hundred bar fights?"

  "Yes."

  She wasn't sure what to say. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "Because you asked."

  "And you answer everything that people ask you?"

  "Not everything."

  "But you think telling me about something like this is okay?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "I'm guessing you're a lawyer, right?"

  She inhaled, thrown by the sudden change in subject. "Did Serena tell you that?"

  "No."

  "Then how did you know I was a lawyer?"

  "I didn't know. I thought it was a possibility because you ask a lot of questions. Most lawyers do."

  "And given all those bar fights, you've probably had a lot of experience with lawyers?"

  "Yes."

  "I still can't believe you're telling me this."

  "Why wouldn't I tell you?"

  "Because admitting that you used to get in bar fights isn't something that people usually do when first getting to know each other."

  "Okay," he said. "But like I said, I don't do that anymore."

  "What about the other night?"

  "That was an MMA match. Mixed martial arts. It's entirely different from what I used to do in the past."

  "It's still fighting, isn't it?"

  "It's a sport--like boxing or tae kwon do."

  She squinted at him. "Is MMA the one in the cage? Where anything goes?"

  "Yes to the first, and no to the second," he said. "There are rules. Actually, there are a lot of rules, even if it can be violent."

  "And you enjoy the violence?"

  "It's good for me."

  "Why? Because it helps to keep you out of trouble?"

  "Among other things." He smiled, and for the first time in a long, long while, she found herself utterly at a loss for words.

  CHAPTER 5

  Colin

  Colin had witnessed reactions like Maria's before, and he knew she was debating whether she should stick around. People generally had negative reactions to hearing about his past. While he no longer beat himself up for his mistakes, he wasn't proud of them, either. He was who he was, warts and all, and he accepted that. Now it was her turn to make a decision.

  He knew that Evan would have shaken his head at the way Colin had answered her questions, but aside from Colin's desire to be honest, what Evan didn't understand was that trying to hide the truth about his past was futile, even if he wanted to keep it hidden. People were both curious and cautious, and he knew that a quick Internet search using his name would yield a handful of newspaper articles about him, none of them good. And if he hadn't laid it out there from the beginning? Either Maria or Serena may have Googled him the same way Victoria had.

  He'd met Victoria at the gym a couple of years ago, and after chatting off and on for a few months, they'd fallen into occasionally working out together. He'd thought they were getting along well and considered
her a good training partner until she'd suddenly begun to avoid him. She'd stopped returning his texts or calls and started working out in the mornings instead of the evenings. When he was finally able to talk to her about it, she'd revealed what she'd learned about him and insisted that he stop trying to contact her. She hadn't been interested in excuses and Colin hadn't offered any, but he did wonder why she'd conducted her Internet research in the first place. It wasn't as though they'd been dating; he wasn't sure they'd even reached the friendship stage yet. A month later, she'd stopped coming to the gym at all, and that was the last he'd seen of her.

  She hadn't been the only one who'd shied away after learning the truth about Colin, and while Evan might joke that Colin immediately volunteered his full history to anyone who asked, it wasn't like that. It generally wasn't anyone else's business, and he kept it that way, unless someone was--or might become--part of his life somehow. Though it was way too early to tell whether Maria fell into that category, Serena was a classmate, and if she'd talked to him once, she just might talk to him again. He admitted that there was something about Maria that interested him, however. Part of it was the way she looked, of course--she was a more mature, more striking version of Serena, with the same dark hair and eyes--but at the bar, he'd noted her lack of vanity. Though she'd drawn stares from any number of men on the rooftop, she hadn't been aware of it, which was extremely rare. But his initial impressions ran deeper than that. Unlike Serena--who was bubbly and chatty and not really his type--Maria was quieter, more contemplative, and obviously intelligent.

  And now? He observed Maria as she tried to figure out whether she wanted to stay or go, continue the conversation or say good-bye. He said nothing, giving her room to make her own decision. Instead, he concentrated on the feel of the breeze and the sound of the waves. Staring down the pier, he noticed that most of the people who'd been fishing had cleared out; those who still remained were packing up their gear or cleaning their catch.

  Maria leaned a little farther over the railing. The darkening sky cast her face in shadow, making her appear mysterious, unknowable. He watched as she drew a long breath.

  "What other things?" she finally asked. Colin smiled inwardly.

  "As much as I enjoy working out, there are times when I'm just not in the mood. But knowing that I have a match coming up, and knowing I have to train for it, gets me off the couch and into the gym."

  "Every day?"

  He nodded. "Usually two or three different sessions. It takes a lot of time."

  "What do you do?"

  "Almost anything," he said with a shrug. "A big chunk of my training is centered around striking and grappling, but after that, I try to mix it up as much as I can. I do Olympic and heavy lifting, but I'll also do spin classes, yoga, kayaking, circuit work, running, rope climbs, stairs, plyometrics, body-weight exercises, whatever. As long as I can break a sweat, I'm happy."

  "You do yoga?"

  "It's not only good for flexibility and balance, but it's great for me mentally. It's like meditating." He nodded at the water, burnished red-gold in the last rays of the sun. "Kind of like being out here after a shift."

  She squinted at him. "You don't look like a guy who does yoga. Guys who do yoga are..."

  He finished for her. "Skinny? Bearded? Into things like incense and beads?"

  She laughed. "I was going to say they're usually not into violence."

  "Neither am I. Not anymore. Obviously, injuries can happen during one of my fights, but I don't necessarily want to hurt anyone. I just want to win."

  "Don't the two go together?"

  "Sometimes, but not always. If you get your opponents in the right submission hold, they'll tap out and walk away good as new."

  She twirled the bracelet on her wrist. "Is it scary? Walking into that cage?"

  "If you're scared, you probably shouldn't be getting into the ring in the first place. For me, it's more of a rush that gets the adrenaline flowing. The key is to keep the adrenaline under control."

  He began reeling in his line.

  "I take it you're pretty good."

  "I'm all right for an amateur, but I'd struggle in the pros. Some of those guys were NCAA-level wrestlers or Olympic boxers, and they're out of my league. But I'm fine with that. It's not my dream to go pro--it's just something to do until I graduate. When the time comes, I'll be ready to walk away."

  Instead of casting again, he fastened the hook and lure to the pole, then tightened the line. "And besides, teaching and cage fighting don't exactly mesh. I'd probably scare the little kids like I scared you."

  "Little kids?"

  "I want to teach third grade," he said. He bent over, reaching for his tackle box. "It's getting dark," he added. "You ready to head back? Or would you like to stay out here a bit longer?"

  "We can go," she said. As Colin set the pole on his shoulder, she noted the restaurants lit from within, lines of people already forming at the doors, the faint strains of music filling the air. "It's starting to get crowded down here."

  "That's why I asked to work the day shift. It'll be a zoo on the rooftop tonight."

  "Good for tips, no?"

  "Not worth the aggravation. Too many college kids."

  She laughed, the sound warm and melodic. They began to retrace the steps they'd taken earlier, neither feeling the need to rush. In the dimming light, she was alluring, her slight smile making him wonder what she was thinking. "Have you always lived here?" he asked, breaking the peaceful lull.

  "I grew up here and moved back last December," she answered. "Between college, law school, and working in Charlotte, I was gone for about ten years. You're not from here, though, right?"

  "I'm from Raleigh," he said. "Spent summers here when I was a kid, lived here on and off for a month or two for a few years after high school. I've been living here permanently the last three years."

  "We've probably been neighbors at times and didn't even know it. I went to UNC and Duke."

  "Neighbors or not, I doubt we traveled in the same social circles."

  She smiled. "So... you came here to go to college?"

  "Not at first. College came a little after that. I came here because my parents kicked me out of the house and I wasn't sure where else to go. My friend Evan was living here and I ended up renting a room from him."

  "Your parents kicked you out?"

  He nodded. "I needed a wakeup call. They gave me one."

  "Oh." She tried to keep her voice neutral.

  "I don't blame them," he said. "I deserved it. I would have kicked me out, too."

  "Because of the fights?"

  "There's more to it than just that, but the fights were part of it. I was kind of a problem child. And then, after high school, I was a problem adult for a while." He glanced over at her. "What about you? Do you live with your parents?"

  She shook her head. "I have a condo down on Market Street. As much as I love them, there's no way I could live with my parents."

  "What do they do?"

  "They own La Cocina de la Familia. It's a restaurant here in town."

  "I've heard of it, but I haven't been there."

  "You should go. The food is really authentic--my mom still cooks a lot of it herself--and the place is always packed."

  "If I mention your name, will I get a discount?"

  "Do you need a discount?"

  "Not really. I'm just wondering how far we've progressed."

  "I'll see what I can do. I'm sure I'd be able to pull some strings."

  By then, they were over the sand and headed for the stairs. He followed as she bounded gracefully down the steps.

  "Do you want me to walk you to your car?" he asked, meeting her gaze.

  "I'll be okay," she demurred. "It's not far."

  He moved the rod from one shoulder to the other, reluctant for the evening to end.

  "If Serena's going out with her friends, what were your plans for the rest of the night?"

  "Nothing, really. Why?"


  "Do you want to listen to some music? Since we're already here? It's not that late yet."

  His question seemed to take her by surprise, and for a moment, he thought she might say no. She adjusted her purse strap, fidgeting with the buckle. While he waited, he thought again that she was beautiful, her long, dark lashes shrouding her thoughts.

  "I thought you didn't go to bars."

  "I don't. But we could walk the beach for a bit, listen for something good, and enjoy it where we are."

  "Are any of the bands any good?"

  "I have no idea."

  Uncertainty was written on her face before he saw something finally give way. "All right. But I don't want to stay long. Maybe just a walk on the beach, okay? I don't want to be down here when the crowds descend."

  He smiled, feeling something unwind within him, and raised the tackle box. "Let me just drop this off, all right? I'd rather not carry it the whole time."

  They backtracked to the restaurant, and once he stowed his things in the employee area, they wandered back down to the sand. The stars were beginning to emerge, brilliant pinpricks in the velvety sky. The waves continued their steady roll and the warm breeze was like a quiet exhale. As they strolled, he was conscious of the fact that she was close enough to touch, but he pushed the realization away.

  "What kind of law do you practice?"

  "Mainly insurance defense work. Research and depositions, negotiation, and as a final resort, litigation."

  "And you defend insurance companies?"

  "For the most part. Every now and then, we're on the plaintiff's side, but it's not that common."

  "Does it keep you busy?"

  "Very." She nodded. "There's a policy for everything, and as much as the policy tries to anticipate every possibility, there are always gray areas. Let's say someone slips in your store and he sues, or an employee sues after getting fired, or maybe you're throwing a birthday party for your son and one of his friends gets hurt in your swimming pool. The insurance company is responsible for paying the claim, but sometimes they decide to fight the claim. That's where we step in. Because the other side always has lawyers."

  "Do you ever go to court?"

  "I haven't yet. Not for this job, anyway. I'm still learning. The partner I do most of my work for goes to court quite a bit, but truthfully most of our cases are settled before they go to trial. In the end, it's cheaper and less hassle for everyone involved."

  "I'll bet you hear a lot of lawyer jokes."

  "Not too many," she said. "Why? Do you have one?"

  He took a couple of steps. "How does a lawyer sleep?" At her shrug, he said, "First he lies on one side, then he lies on the other."