Chapter 6

“I made the right decision in not letting Trace stay the night,” Connie said as she drove her sister to the next house that the real-estate agent wanted Erica to see. “Besides, I didn’t trust myself.”

After hearing the news about Richard’s death, it would’ve been easy to fall into bed with Trace. Anything to take her mind off the day, but she hadn’t. She couldn’t use him like that, even though she wanted him more than she had ever wanted another man. But since she told him that they could only be friends, she had to stick by that decision and not send mixed signals. It was going to be hard, but she had to stand firm.

“Come on, sis. I hope you’re not letting a couple of bad relationships keep you from hooking up with a good guy. I don’t know Trace, but from the way you talk about him, I know he’s a catch. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Connie glanced at her sister, then returned her attention to the road. “Who said you’re going to meet him? He and I are just friends. Nothing else.”

Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would sink in. Before the electricity had come back on, Connie had struggled to keep her hands to herself. There was no way Trace could’ve stayed. She would’ve wanted a repeat of the night they’d shared a month ago.

“I don’t agree with you, but, hey, if you want to live the rest of your life alone, then who am I to stand in your way?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you,” Connie said as she entered a neighborhood that had a mixture of older homes and new buildings. For the past month, she’d been tagging along with her sister to look at real estate and enjoying every minute of it.

“Thanks for driving today. It feels good to not have to be the chauffeur for a change. Between gymnastics, Girl Scouts and playdates, your niece has me running all over town,” Erica said.

“No problem.” Connie parked her BMW in front of the house that had a large For Sale sign in the yard. “Besides, your driving makes me nervous. Chauffeuring you around for a change helps me keep my sanity.”

“You are not funny.” Erica laughed, despite her words, then slowly sobered as she stared out the passenger window at the beautiful home. “I still can’t believe I’m actually looking at houses to buy.”

The melancholy lacing her words pierced Connie in the chest. Two years ago, she thought Erica would never recover from the death of her husband. Connie had never seen two people more in love than Erica and Kevin. They had given her hope that a happily-ever-after was possible.

That all ended when Kevin was killed on his way to work. He had stopped to get gasoline and a cup of coffee, but while he was inside the gas station, a robbery was taking place. He and one other person were killed. Erica had been inconsolable, especially knowing she’d have to raise their daughter alone. Nakia had been five at the time.

Connie had been living in Los Angeles, overseeing LEPA’s other office. She had spent a few weeks with her sister and niece after Kevin’s death, then made the trip from LA to Vegas once or twice a month to check on them. When Trinity had suggested Connie relocate and run the Vegas office, she’d leaped at the opportunity. It had only taken a couple of months to get her life in order and find an executive to oversee the LA location.

“What do you think so far?” Connie asked as she took in the two-car attached garage that seemed to dominate the front of the home.

Living in Vegas, she was getting used to the desert scenery, and this home’s front yard was beautiful. The grassless landscaping, with gravel and mulch, had two short palm trees, cacti, agave plants and a few other blooming flowers.

“Not bad, even though I’m not a fan of the front-facing garage. It’s like the first thing I noticed when we pulled up to the house,” Erica said.

“True, but at least it’s attached to the house, unlike mine.” Not only was her garage a stand-alone, but it also could barely accommodate one small car and offered no space for storage.

As they trekked up the walkway, the front door opened. “Hey, you two.” Angela, the real-estate agent, stood on the concrete stoop. “Hopefully, you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”

Connie followed them into the house. “No trouble at all.”

The smell of fresh paint greeted them at the door. The home had a partially open floor plan. The stairs to the second floor were just beyond the living room and a short hallway led to what looked like the kitchen and dining area.

Angela handed them each a sheet of paper. “Here is the home’s spec. As you can see, Erica, it’s under your budget and still in your daughter’s school district.”

“That’s great.”

Looking at the house with her sister made Connie think about her own desires to get married, have a family and move into her forever home. It also had her thinking about Richard. Only minutes before he was shot, she had promised to see him when she was ready to finance another house. Now he was gone. That fact reminded her of how no one was promised tomorrow.

“What do you think so far, sis?” Erica asked.

Connie gave a half-hearted shrug. “Well, considering we’re still standing in the foyer, I haven’t formed an opinion yet.”

Erica side-eyed her and shook her head. “Always a smart-ass.”

Angela chuckled and proceeded to show them around.

Connie followed them past the formal living room and down the hall, taking in the travertine floors along the way. As they strolled through the main level, she skimmed the home’s fact sheet. The three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom home was fifteen hundred square feet and thirteen years old.

“The kitchen is outdated, and I don’t like how small this island is,” Erica said, scanning the tight space with a critical eye. Like Connie, Erica enjoyed cooking. A large kitchen with updated appliances was a must.

“Since this is well under your budget,” the real-estate agent said, “you’ll still have money left over to make changes to the kitchen and other parts of the house.”

“That’s true, but I really wanted to just move in and not have to deal with renovations,” Erica said. She stood in front of the sliding patio door before the agent opened it.

They roamed through the rest of the home, which was a nice size and had large bedrooms—a good selling feature. Had it not been for the mostly concrete backyard and the old appliances, Erica probably would’ve put in an offer. Instead, she told Angela that she’d have to think about it, but wanted to see a few more places.

Two houses later, Connie was ready to call it quits and get some dinner. Once they were back in the car, Erica stared out the window at the last home.

“I really liked that one, but I want Nakia to have a yard with grass.”

“Well, if you like it that much, you can have the backyard redone. Get rid of the gravel and add grass, especially if that’s the only thing giving you pause.”

Connie gave the house one last look before pulling away from the curb. She and Erica discussed their likes and dislikes of all three homes. The last one had checked off most of the must-haves on Erica’s list.

“We’ve seen some nice options this past month,” Connie said, dividing her attention between her sister and the road. “Do you think part of your hesitation to choose one is because you’re not ready to buy?”

Erica dropped her head against the headrest and stared straight ahead. “I thought about that, and I’m not sure. Maybe. I know it’s time to move on and focus on building a life for me and Nakia, but...”

“But you miss Kevin.”

“I do. I still think about him every day, but thinking of him doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. I think my hesitation is more about the fact that buying a house is a big financial commitment. This time I’m doing it by myself, and it’s scary.”

“Tell me about it. I had wanted to buy a house for years, but the LA housing market was out of my price range no matter how much money I made. So making the move here, I couldn’t wait to purchase my first home. It wasn’t until the closing, when I had to sign my name fifty million times, that I started getting nervous.”

“Oh, God. I forgot about that part.” Erica shook her head. “It was like signing your life away.”

“I know, right? But if you know you can afford it, and you believe that you’re ready to make the leap, I say go for it. Life is too short to be second-guessing everything because of fear.”

Connie might’ve been saying the words to her sister, but she knew she needed to take her own advice. She was famous for overthinking everything, and there had been too many times she let fear dictate her actions, like with Trace. Sure, she was hesitant to get involved with someone at the company, because if the relationship went south, working together would be awkward. But regarding Trace, it was more than that. She was actually afraid of opening her heart to another man and then getting hurt. Ultimately, fear was the main reason she was insisting that they just be friends.

“You haven’t said much about the bank robbery. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay. I didn’t sleep much last night, but hopefully I’ll do better tonight.”

“You would’ve slept great if you had let a certain cutie-pie bodyguard spend the night. Maybe you would’ve even had a repeat of the infamous one-night stand.”

“Oh, good grief. Give it a rest. I shouldn’t have told you about that night, and how do you know he’s cute? I never told you what he looked like.”

“Just a feeling I have and the dreamy expression you wear whenever you talk about him. You try and play down your attraction, but you’re not fooling anyone but yourself. You like Trace. Really like him.”

Those tingles Connie usually experienced when his name was mentioned were back. There was no way she was telling her sister about how nightly fantasies of him had been interrupting her sleep lately. The previous evening had been the only time in weeks that he hadn’t starred in her dreams.

Instead, gunshots and screams like she’d heard at the bank had given her nightmares. After waking in a cold sweat at five o’clock that morning, Connie had given up on rest.

“I know your issues when it comes to trusting men, but maybe give Trace a chance. You said yourself that he’s like no other man you’ve known.”

He wasn’t. She’d had her share of short-term relationships, ending them for one reason or another. It wasn’t until recently, when Trinity had called her out on her love-’em-and-leave-’em behavior, that Connie had taken stock of her dating life.

She headed to the Water Street District, where they planned to have dinner. “How’d you do it?” she asked her sister.

“How’d I do what?”

“How’d you learn to trust Kevin?”

She and Erica had grown up with a father who cheated and a mother who was good at pushing everyone away. Unlike what Erica had built with Kevin, the household she and Connie grew up in wasn’t a happy one. Their father left when she was ten, and her mother hooked up with one man after another.

As an adult, Connie struggled to make meaningful connections, especially with men. Then a betrayal like nothing she had ever experienced before had rocked her to the core. Unlucky in love, she was tired of trying to weed through the BS, which was why she was taking a break from dating.

“It didn’t take me long to trust Kevin. Probably because he never gave me a reason to not trust him. You can’t assume that every relationship will turn out like Mom and Dad’s. Not that I’m excusing either of them and how they behaved, but they were so young when they married.”

“That’s no excuse to cheat on her,” Connie said.

“I know, I’m not saying that it is, but it’s one reason their marriage was so rocky from the start. Then it didn’t help that they started having kids right away.”

“Is that why you and Kevin waited so long before having Nakia?”

“No. We wanted time to enjoy each other. Looking back and considering how things turned out, I wish we would’ve had more sooner. I never wanted Nakia to grow up an only child.”

“It’s not too late. You can still have more children.” Erica was two years older and, at thirty-two, still in her prime.

“I know, but I can’t see myself marrying again. Kevin was my soul mate. Isn’t there some type of saying that you only have one?”

“I’ve never heard that, and whether it’s true or not, I hope you don’t rule out finding love again and remarrying.”

Erica turned in her seat and Connie could almost feel her sister’s glare boring into her. “Excuse me? At least I gave it a try. You won’t let a man get close enough to see if marriage is a possibility.”

Connie sighed and found a parking space near the restaurant. “I know” was all she could say. She wanted to get married and have a family one day, but first she had to start trusting again.

Easier said than done.

A couple of hours later, after dropping Erica at home, Connie headed back to the city. Traffic increased as she neared downtown Las Vegas, which wasn’t a surprise since it was Friday night. Like so many others, she should be out taking in a show or maybe having drinks with friends. Instead, she was heading home to her quiet house, hoping to sleep better than she had the night before. What she wasn’t looking forward to was being alone with her thoughts.

Needing fresh air, Connie turned off the air conditioner and lowered her window a bit. The sounds of highway traffic with tires thumping over pavement, cars whizzing by and horns blowing was almost soothing. The calm of a peaceful ride seeped into her soul and a smile graced her lips.

All is well in my world, she thought. Alive and healthy. Connie couldn’t ask for much more than that these days. She just needed to act like a person who still had her whole life ahead of her.

“Then why am I going home? I should be out doing something fun.”

She was a mile from her house and immediately thought about ice cream. Nothing said “I’m alive and happy” like two scoops of anything that included chocolate.

Twenty minutes later, she exited the ice-cream parlor feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. Apparently, she hadn’t been the only one looking for a sweet treat. There were no available tables inside, and the four cast-iron tables sitting out front were occupied.

She couldn’t much blame everyone—it was the perfect balmy night for a sweet treat. At eighty degrees, it was still warm, considering it was after nine, but the light breeze made it comfortable.

Connie dragged her tongue around the two scoops of the day’s special—chocolate fudge brownie. The delightful brownie chunks melting on her tongue were worth every single calorie. For the last couple of days, her sweet tooth had gotten the best of her. What made it even worse was that she hadn’t worked out for two days.

“Tomorrow. I’ll go to the gym tomorrow.”

Connie quickly slid her tongue along the side of the waffle cone, catching the melting ice cream. Seemed the faster she licked, the quicker it melted. Eventually, she had cleaned off the sides of the cone and went back to licking the scoops.

Her cell phone rang, and she reached into her back pocket, where she had stored it. When she glanced at the screen, an involuntary smile spread across her lips at the sight of Trace’s name. It was the first time that she had heard from him all day.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Where are you?” he asked, his deep voice washing over her like a gentle caress despite his blunt question.

“So, what? You can’t say hello?”

“I’m sorry. Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. Since when do you call and ask where I’m at?”

“The bank robbery was an inside job. One of the tellers was working with the robbers. Do you remember the name of the person who helped you?”

“I have no idea, but what does it matter?”

He huffed out a long breath as if he’d been holding it forever. “Where are you?”

“Getting ready to leave the ice-cream parlor. Why?”

“The one by your house?”

“Yes. Why? Are you planning another surprise visit?”

“Connie, this may not be anything we should be concerned about, but I just saw a news report and the authorities are looking for that bank teller. I’m calling because... Heck, I don’t know. I guess I’m just worried about your safety. The idea of you being alone while her and the robbers are running free doesn’t sit well with me.”

Standing on the sidewalk and looking out over the dimly lit parking lot, Connie listened as Trace discussed his concerns. It had been a long time since a man had cared enough to worry about her. Though she appreciated that he cared, she wished he would give it a rest. How could she tell him that without sounding ungrateful? She was never going to be able to put the incident behind her if he kept bringing it up constantly.

“The media has been flashing the teller’s face on TV and social media. If you saw a picture, would you remember if she was the one who helped you with your banking that day?”

“Maybe. But, Trace, you need to let this go. I’m trying to move on. Right now, I just want to eat my ice cream and pretend that all is right in the world.”

“I’m going to text you her photo,” he said, as if she hadn’t just made it clear that she was done with the incident.

“Fine, but I’m not looking at it until—”

“Look out!” someone yelled suddenly. A second later, Connie was shoved hard in the back with enough force to send her catapulting forward, barely missing a parked car. Her phone and ice-cream cone flew from her hands, and an ear-piercing scream ripped from her throat as she slammed hard into the ground.

“Oh, wow. That car was coming right at her,” a man said. “I didn’t mean to push her that hard, but—”

“Is she okay?”

“Miss, are you hurt?”

“Don’t touch her!”

“I got the jerk’s license plate number.”

Everyone around her spoke at once as Connie was lying facedown on the ground trying to get her bearings. Her mind racing, and her body throbbing, shock and fear warred within her. She slowly lifted her head and blinked several times until tires came into view. Lots of tires.

What just happened?