Secret admirer, p.1
Secret Admirer, page 1
Secret Admirer
Harlow Layne
Contents
1. Bodhi
2. Coco
3. Bodhi
4. Coco
5. Bodhi
6. Coco
7. Bodhi
8. Coco
9. Bodhi
10. Coco
11. Coco
12. Bodhi
13. Coco
14. Bodhi
15. Coco
16. Bodhi
17. Coco
18. Coco
19. Bodhi
20. Coco
21. Bodhi
22. Coco
Enjoy This Book?
Acknowledgments
About Harlow
Also by Harlow Layne
SECRET ADMIRER by Harlow Layne
Copyright © 2019 by Harlow Layne. All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1-950044-05-4 (Ebook Edition)
ISBN-13: 978-1-950044-06-1 (Paperback Edition)
Edited by: Your Editing Lounge - Editor: Kristen
Cover Design: Harlow Layne
Images from iStock Photos
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Manufactured in the United States of America.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
I don’t know who you are, but your story touched my heart. Years later you inspired the story of Bodhi.
1
Bodhi
I keep my head down and don’t make eye contact as I walk down the sidewalk. I need to get out of the heat and find some shelter until the sun goes down. I’ve only been in town for a couple of days and have yet to get the lay of the land. I thought moving West for the winter would be a smart move. That was until I spent my first day sweating my balls off and then subsequently freezing them off all night.
The desert city is busy with shoppers getting ready for Halloween. I’ve never seen a town that loves the holiday as much as my newfound home. Every house and business seems to be trying to outdo the one next to them. Pumpkins litter the sidewalk by the shop doors with fake spider webs strewn across the windows and doors. The houses are elaborate scenes that could rival the best scary movie with graveyards, cauldrons, and serial killers peeking from the shadows.
I wonder if they celebrate like this for all holidays or if I’ll be around for more.
Movement from my right catches my attention. Stopping in front of the window, my breath catches. The most beautiful woman in the world is stringing orange lights around the window with tears streaming down her face. She’s petite with curves in all the right places. Her long blonde hair shines like the sun with blue eyes that remind me of the sky on a cloudless summer day. Even red rimmed and puffy, she glows like a goddess.
I’m drawn to her in a way I’ve never felt before. It confuses me and yet draws me closer to the window.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen a woman cry. Not by a long shot, but it is the first time my heart constricts in my chest as I watch her tears continue to flow down her cheeks. She doesn’t even notice me standing out here gawking at her, she’s crying so hard.
I have an unexplainable urge to go to her and wrap her in my arms, but I know I would only distress her more. Who wants a stranger taking pity on them? Especially when that person is a filthy stranger.
If I come up to her, I’m sure she’ll be scared of me. I know what I look like. Who I am.
Growing up I was always the tallest person in my grade or school. To go along with my tall frame, I was so wiry everyone made fun of me calling me a beanstalk or skeleton along with the names they’d called me since we moved to town. I’ve been called a loner, creep, loser, and over the past few years a filthy beast. Once I got into high school, I started lifting weights hoping the snickers behind my back would end. Instead, their taunting only increased when I hit another growth spurt putting me at six foot, six. I’ve lost some of the muscle over the years, but my size is still intimidating.
My clothes are beyond dirty. In the desert sun, it’s best to wear white, but out on the streets, white is unforgiving. If my hulking frame doesn’t scare people away, my unkempt hair and filthy clothes and body will do the job.
Instead, I stare at her until one of her co-workers comes and envelopes her in a hug. When her pink haired friend catches me watching, she sneers, turning my Goddess around and ushers her further away into the building until I can no longer see them.
Blinking away the image of her crying form, I shake my head, trying to resist the urge to go inside, find her, and wipe away her tears.
For the first time in years, I feel I have a purpose.
I need to do something that will brighten her day the way she’s brightened mine.
It’s then I remember earlier in the day, I saw these bright pink flowers on a cactus a few miles away. Maybe I can find my way back and get her one before she leaves work for the day. Whenever that is.
Turning around I bump into a couple walking their dog and mumble my apology. They turn, scowling at me with their noses upturned and lips pursed. Quickening my steps, I head in the direction I think the flower is in. Sweat pours down my forehead and back. My clothes stick to every inch of my body. The sun is almost unbearable but not as unacceptable as not trying to cheer up her day.
My mouth is parched. I ran out of water about an hour ago and not knowing this town isn’t doing me any favors. I don’t want to start off on a bad foot and have people giving me dirty looks on day two or worse yet, call the cops on me. If I’m lucky, I’ll find a drinking fountain where I can fill my water bottle.
My feet start to drag around mile two. I’m almost there, or at least I think I am. Everything looks the same in this damn town. Palm tree after palm tree. Cactus after cactus. The only thing I know is I haven’t seen the blooming cactus flower yet. At this point, I’ll take any flower I see.
Finally, I get into a residential neighborhood. It looks nice, but not the one I was in earlier. It’s nicer than any place I’ve seen in the last few years. Out of desperation, I head down a street that ends in a cul-de-sac and take a look around. I pick a house in the middle and walk to the side of the house. Surely whoever lives here won’t mind me filling up a couple of water bottles out of their garden hose.
My eyes dart around for anyone who may see me sneaking along the yard. My feet crunch through the sand and rocks, and I try to lighten my steps to keep quiet. I know logically no one inside their house is going to hear me, but I can’t help myself. I know what I’m doing is wrong and my brain is telling me that I must do everything possible not to get caught.
Finding a faucet, I pull out my two water bottles from my backpack and set them on the ground. With one final look around, I pray no one will see me as I slowly turn on the water. Cool water splashes against my overheated legs as I cup water in my hands and sip the lifesaving elixir. I can’t remember the last time water tasted so good. Once my tongue no longer is stuck to the roof of my mouth, I fill up my water bottles, quickly turn off the water, and hightail my ass back onto the street in search of my Goddess’ flower. I breathe a sigh of relief when no one comes running out of their house screaming at me for stealing their water.
After walking for at least another half hour the sun starts to dip behind the mountains. It’s going to get dark soon and I’ve failed at finding her anything that might bring a smile to her beautiful face.
I don’t want to give up my search, but I fear she’ll be gone before I make it back. At least I was smart and wrote down directions to get back.
Do I head back to see if her day got any better or do I continue looking?
2
Coco
Heading to my car, I feel eyes on me. I turn around in circles scanning my surroundings, but I see no one or anything in the shadows. Maybe I’m just imagining it. It’s possible after the week I’ve had. My ex-boyfriend showed up at my apartment unannounced the day after I laid my parents to rest. Never mind that my parents and I didn’t get along. We both had different ideas about what my future should hold. They died in a hit and run last week after attending a gala for the homeless in our town, Oasis, and surrounding cities.
With a final look around, I get inside my car and immediately hit the door lock. When the sound reverberates through the inside of my car, I breathe out a sigh of relief.
I’m safe.
Turning on my car, I blast the air conditioner trying to cool off. Even with the sun dipped behind the mountains, it’s still sweltering. I seem to be the only native in the area who isn’t throwing on a jacket to stay warm as the temperature cools down. Just as I’m about to pull out of the parking lot, I swear I see someone move along the exterior of the building. Throwing my car into drive, my tires burn rubber as I hurry to get the hell out of there and take off to get some dinner. For the first time in days, I’m starved. I know just the thing to help revive my system. In-N-Out Burger.
I order a burger and fries with a chocolate shake at the drive-thru and then find a parking place to inhale my food since I’m too much of a mess to eat around others. I take my last sip of my milkshake ten minutes later feeling full and finally ready to get some much-n
eeded sleep.
Having barely slept for the last week and a half has taken a toll on my mind. Today, I almost cut off six inches of someone's hair when she only wanted a trim. Thank God I caught myself before I lost a client. I need to get my head back in the game before I’m fired. There’s only so much Trixie will put up with before I’m out on my ass. Not that I need my job, but I love it and Trixie.
Yawning, I get out of my car and make my way into my building. Only a couple more days here and I won’t have to put up with my loud ass neighbors. That puts a smile on my face. The first one in a long time.
Pulling out my keys, I start to unlock my door when I see someone dart around the corner at the end of the hall. Since my parents’ death, I’ve been on edge, feeling as if someone is watching me. I’ve been told it’s understandable, but this feels like more than grief and sleep deprivation.
“Hello?” I call out. I wince at how shaky my voice sounds as it echoes down the hall.
Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.
Why would someone be at Tricks Salon and my apartment? Because there isn’t. There’s no one lurking in the shadows waiting to get me. This isn’t a horror movie. I’m imagining things from lack of sleep. I just need a good night's rest and then I won’t be hallucinating people who aren’t there.
Still, I can’t help how I feel. After Dwayne, my ex-boyfriend, showed up, there’s been more than a few times I’ve felt as if I’m being watched. The moment my front door is closed, I flip the two deadbolts feeling marginally better. At this moment, I wish I had one of those bars that go across your door like you see in movies. Surely, they’re real. Why else would they show them? Throwing my purse on the counter, I start stripping out of my work clothes as I make my way toward the bathroom for a nice hot shower.
Standing underneath the spray, I hang my head and let the water wash away all the stress from the last week. I don’t move until the water cools and only then do I quickly wash my body. My hand pulls up short when I hear a thud from somewhere in my apartment. Quietly I slide the shower door open and peek out into the steamy bathroom. Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around my body as I tiptoe to the door. Placing my ear to the door, I hold my breath as I listen for any sounds, but I hear nothing but the clicking from my ceiling fan as it spins.
Letting out my breath, I open the door and slip through. My eyes scan my bedroom as I silently step out into the hall. With each step, my shoulders climb higher and higher until they're up by my ears.
So much for a nice relaxing shower.
Luckily or unluckily for me, my floor plan is open. I couldn’t hide if I wanted to and neither can anyone else. I see no one. I hear no one.
Then I spot my purse.
I threw it on the counter when I walked in, but now it’s sitting on the barstool. Maybe it slid off and landed there and I didn’t notice. Only the bar stool is on the side facing the door and it would slide to the other side. Right?
I’m going crazy.
I must have spaced out and sat it down before I made my way to the bathroom.
Unease fills my stomach no matter how much I try to convince myself nothing is amiss.
Searching through my purse, I find my phone ready to call 911 if I need to. My fingers type out a quick text as I scan my living room and kitchen again.
Dad: I heard a noise in my apartment. I’m sure it’s nothing.
I hit send and immediately tears well up in my eyes. My dad isn’t going to respond. Neither is my mother.
To make myself feel better, I check my front door to make sure it’s still locked. It is. Next, I make the rounds of checking every window to make sure they’re locked as well. Not that anyone is going to scale the five stories to get in through one of my windows. Lastly, I check the sliding glass door leading out to my tiny balcony only to find it unlocked. I step out in only my towel, looking at the balconies of my neighbors. No one is outside, and no one is lying in wait to attack me either. With one last look, I close the door and make sure to lock it. I can’t remember the last time I used it and I’m not always the best at locking it, so I shrug it off as my overactive imagination.
A knock comes from down the hall causing me to jump.
“Delivery,” a deep voice calls out.
A shiver runs through me, and I try to push away the disquieting feeling that’s settled in the pit of my stomach.
I guess I’ll have to have a drink if I want to relax and fall asleep before the sun comes up.
Pulling out the tequila I throw back a shot and let the burn settle my nerves. It doesn’t work. There doesn’t seem to be anything that works these last few days. Maybe it’s my guilt for fighting with my parents for so many years. Now it all seems pointless. They’re gone and I’m alone.
My alarm goes off only minutes after I fall asleep—or so it feels. I hit the snooze button repeatedly until I have no other choice but to get up and get ready for work.
Last night was another restless night of sleep. Instead of dreaming of my parents dying in a fiery wreck, I dreamt of someone watching me from the shadows.
Trudging into the kitchen, I hit the Keurig button and close my eyes as I wait for my coffee. When I hear it’s finally done, I grab the French vanilla creamer and turn my cup from a dark brown into what looks like a light chocolate milk. What can I say? I love the caffeine but not the taste of coffee.
After hitting the snooze button one or a few too many times earlier, I need to hurry up and get ready for work. My hair is a mess after going to bed with it wet, so I throw it up in a ponytail and hope I’ll have time once I’m at work to fix it. Maybe I’ll even let Trixie add some pink highlights like she’s wanted to do since I set foot in her salon.
Grabbing breakfast, I quickly look around my apartment, taking stock of where everything is before I’m gone for the day. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t get the thought of my purse not being where I left it last night out of my head. If someone happens to come into my apartment while I’m gone and moves anything I’ll know. I make sure to double check my front door is locked when I leave and jog down the stairs instead of taking the elevator.
Shoving the last bite of my bagel into my mouth, I start to unlock the front door of Tricks when I see a simple but beautiful hot pink flower.
Maybe this is the world's way of telling me I should get those pink highlights.
Looking down the sidewalk both ways, I don’t spot anyone. It’s surprisingly empty for being almost nine o’clock in the morning. Reaching down, I pick up the bright pink flower and bring it to my nose. There’s no smell, but I don’t care because it’s beautiful and I can’t remember the last time someone sent me flowers. It’s then I spot a note that was underneath. Slowly I peel the folded paper open to see beautiful script scrawled across the simple notebook paper.
I hope this flower brightens up your day. No more tears. Please.
B
3
Bodhi
I watch from across the way as my Goddess picks up the flower I left for her and brings it up to her nose. As her lips start to tip up at the corners, my chest swells with…pride. Something I haven’t felt in far too long.
“Trixie, did you see anyone out front when you got here?” she calls out as she props the door open. Her voice is breathless and sexy as hell.
The sight of her and hearing the sound of her voice causes my body to stir to life. I duck further into the shadows behind a crop of trees so they don’t see me.
“No.” The pink haired woman from yesterday comes out of a room. “Why? Something up?”
