Chapter 4
Paige wore a splendidly serene sky blue dress. It showed just a hint of cleavage and ended just below her knees. The dress reminded Edward of something Doris Day might wear in a late 1950’s movie while her curves beneath it reminded him of Marilyn Monroe. Paige stood, politely waiting for him, her notebook in one hand and her purse in the other. Her skin glowed.
They stepped outside and a gust of wind caught the bottom of her dress. Paige dropped a hand to keep it from lifting and for a split second the sublimity of her innocence caused Edward to hesitate.
He escorted her, his hand gently resting in the middle of her back, to the passenger side of his car. Then offered his hand to help her into her seat and she took it. He knew Paige considered herself an independent woman, but he also knew she preferred the kind of treatment only a true gentleman would provide.
Paige grinned and thanked him as he closed the door.
Edward climbed behind the wheel and started the car. He buckled his seat belt and thumbed a button on the console. The sunroof slid back.
A single thread of chilly air dipped into the car. The air was shifty, as if a cold front might move in at any moment. One minute it was rigid with warm stillness, the next plump with cold violence. If a full wall of cold air decided to land, it would collide with the hot, moist air stagnating around the state. Then serious thunderstorms would ravage the city. Tornados might even be a possibility. But right then, the day was nice, a Florida beach ocean breeze kind of nice.
Edward pointed at Paige’s waist. “Buckle up. Let’s keep safe.”
She glanced at her lap. “Sorry, Mr. Patterson,” she said. “I’m not in the habit of wearing one. I know I should. I just forget.”
“Edward,” he said, winking at her. “Call me Edward. Everyone has a vice, or two.”
“And you really seem to be such a lead foot,” she laughed.
Edward slipped the shifter into first and eased the coupe through the intersection. Soon they were out of the art district, on the edge of downtown.
He hated downtown: too much traffic, too many one-way streets, too many people, too many distractions. Diesel engines rattled, a horn honked, a group of suits made their way down a sidewalk, a couple of skaters took turns doing lipslides off a concrete bench, a security guard unloaded stacks of money in clear plastic bags, presumably for a bank, from an armored car onto a dolly. Lambs for the slaughter. Slaves to society.
“It’s not me that I’m worried about,” Edward said. “There are a lot of maniacs out there.”
"You’re telling me. Eddie says there’s a man going around carjacking women and shooting them in the face.”
“Really? That’s just awful.”
Edward revved the fuel-injected V8 engine and slipped a new CD out of its case. The Temptations With A Lot O' Soul matched his mood. He slid the disc into the player and adjusted the volume to a level where they could still talk without raising their voices. “I’m Losing You” poured from the speakers. Edward tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He couldn’t help himself. It was a beautiful day.
“So, which way do I go?” Edward asked.
Paige pointed northeast, and Edward turned onto Broadway heading for I-35.
“When would you want me to start the new job?” she asked.
“Job? Can you really call being an artist a job?”
“Artist.” She paused, considered the word. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
Edward turned again, this time onto the Interstate on-ramp. He eased up to the speed limit, signaled, and slid the coupe into traffic. “You’re not afraid are you?”
“Afraid? Afraid of what?”
“Change,” he said. “The risks you’re taking. Some people don’t embrace change. They find the prospect of quitting one job for another quite stressful. They’re too frightened to follow their dreams.”
Paige tucked a rebellious lock of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m excited. I am a little worried about how you’ll feel about my work though.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that too much. This has gone so well. I think looking at your portfolio is really just a formality. You’re the one I want running Back Door.”
Cars and trucks rushed by in the fast lane, one after another. As each passed the wind pulled at the coupe causing it to gently rock.
“See what I mean,” Edward said pointing out a shiny red corvette as it flew past them. “Maniacs.”
Paige laughed in agreement. She was beaming, absolutely beaming.
“So how’s it feel to be changing your entire life?”
“I’ve never really felt like this,” she said. “About life. I feel... giddy. Like I just escaped an avalanche that was sure to bury me. Everything looks better, even smells better. I guess this is what they mean by high on life.”
“Dodged a few avalanches have you?”
“You know what I mean, don’t you? I feel really good.”
“That’s great. It should feel really good.”
They neared the Interstate interchange. Traffic thickened.
“You’ll want to take I-40,” Paige said. She reached into her purse, pulled out a cell phone, and looked at the display. “That’s odd. There’s no signal.”
“Need to make a call?”
“I wanted to call Eddie. I told him I’d call him as soon as we were finished, but that was when I thought I’d be showing you a place and maybe writing a contract.”
“Mind if I have a look at it?” he asked, extending an open hand toward her.
Paige placed the cell phone in his palm, and he flipped it open to look at the display. No signal. Edward turned the phone off, waited a moment, and turned it back on. Still, no signal.
“Maybe they’re having trouble with the towers,” he said.
They zipped past I-40 continuing south.
“You missed the exit.”
Edward glanced in the rearview mirror.
“That’s what I get for multitasking in the car. Now I’m driving like the rest of the maniacs.”
He handed the phone back to her, gave her his winsome smile. The same smile he’d given at their first official meeting at a little restaurant called Sweets & Eats. Paige had been sitting at a table near the back. Property information sheets were spread out in front of her. Every minute or two she’d peeked up at the door. She was waiting for him.
The moment he saw her chewing on the end of a pen with Viagra imprinted across it he knew she was the one. Paige wore provocative like a new blouse. The way she sat with the pen dangling from her mouth reminded him of photos of the fetish pinup model Dita Von Teese. She was dangerously beautiful.
As he recalled it, Paige had sized him up when he’d stepped through the door. Smiled at him. Then gestured for him to sit in the empty chair across from her. When he sat down, he smiled back at her, asked her how her hunt was going.
Her skin glimmered even under fluorescent lights, like lightning reflecting off water.
She’d rattled off several property descriptions to him, but he didn’t hear a word she said until she mentioned she was married. That made her perfect. He had to have her. And now, he did.
Edward slammed his right fist into the left side of her face, catching her just below the eye and driving her head into the passenger window. It bounced off the glass like a rubber ball off concrete.
The brunette slumped over in the seat.
Steele slowly brought the car to a stop on the shoulder of the Interstate.
One of his earliest childhood memories involved long pin needles with big white beads on the ends. He’d had boxes and boxes of them. He liked sliding the needles under the skin of his fingers, lining them up until they looked like alien spines made of metal and flesh.
The first time he pinned his fingers in class was in the third grade. The names of his fellow students and his teacher had long since left his memory. But he still rem
embered being transfixed by the dozen or so needles piercing the skin of his fingers. He remembered flexing them, feeling the skin stretching taut. He’d tapped the shoulder of the pigtailed blonde girl sitting in front of him. Waved at her when she turned. She saw his fingers, said, “Ewww.” It attracted the attention of the girl next to her, a nasty little uppity brunette who always made faces at him in class.
She screamed.
And that was the first time Steele tasted real power.