Kent and the Dangerous Man

Chapter 1It was a Tuesday evening and Kent Ryland was waiting to pick up his sister, Kelly, from work. While he did, he watched a man across the street from where he’d parked. He’d seen him twice before during his waits and something about him intrigued Kent. The man always walked quickly; as if he had somewhere he had to be and was running late. He was tall, at least six-two, Kent estimated, with black hair and a five-o’clock-shadow which said he needed to shave at least twice a day. He looked…‘Dangerous’ was the word Kent used to describe him although to most people he undoubtedly came across as just another businessman going home after a hard day’s work. The dangerous feeling had to do with the remorseless expression on his handsome face, as if smiling was something he’d never allow to happen. “Day dreaming about some guy at work?” Kelly’s amused question startled Kent as she got into the car and tossed her backpack on the rear seat. “As if.” He chuckled, started the car, and pulled out into rush hour traffic. Because Kent got off work half-an-hour before Kelly from his job at ‘Brown and Henderson Advertising’ he had offered—as soon as she’d moved into the apartment building where he’d lived for the past four years—to pick her up from the downtown bookstore where she worked. She’d readily agreed. “Saving bus fare, not having to stand all the way home during rush hour, and all that crap…” was her excuse for accepting. He couldn’t fault her for that. He would have taken her to work, too, but she started at ten and he was due at work at nine. Kelly had been eighteen, still living at home after graduating high school, when their father was killed in a work-related accident. Like Kent, she had never really gotten along with their mother. Therefore, right after the funeral, Kelly had intensified her hunt for a job that would earn her enough to move out on her own. That process had been sped up when their mother had announced she was going to sell the family home as soon as possible to move east and live with her sister in upstate New York. Kelly had gotten the job she wanted at the bookstore and a week later, at Kent’s urging, she’d rented a studio apartment downstairs from his apartment. It had become available with what they both considered to be perfect timing. “How was your day?” Kelly asked when they were on Broadway, heading toward Sixth Avenue and home. “Not bad. We got a new client who wants us to pump up his visual advertising. Mr. Allan passed that on to me, with him having the final say before we show it to the client, of course.” Mr. Allan was one of two art directors for the agency and Kent’s immediate boss. “Way to go!” Kelly pumped a fist. Kent laughed. “It’s not that big a deal, unless I screw up.” “You won’t. You’re good.” “Thanks. Did you run your feet off at work?” Kelly glanced down at them and grinned. “Nope, still there. Sore but, hey, I’m used to it.” “You’re something else.” “I know, and you still love me. So tell me, where were you—” Kelly tapped his temple, “—that you jumped when I got into the car?” Kent shrugged. “People watching.” “Anyone in particular?” He debated telling her, while turning onto Sixth, and then did. “There’s this man I’ve seen a couple, no three times while I’ve been waiting for you. He’s, I suppose you could say interesting.” “Ah ha. How so?” “He looks like at least half of the businessmen you see downtown but there’s something about him. Something that feels dangerous.” She nodded, tapped a finger against her lips, and then, holding up her hand she ticked off her fingers. “He’s a mobster, or an undercover cop, or a bodyguard on his way to pick up some bigwig he’s supposed to be escorting to a meeting. Or…” she frowned. “I was going to say a tough biker chief or whatever they call themselves, but they wouldn’t be caught dead in a suit.” Kent snorted. “Probably not. I suppose he could be a bodyguard, but why have I seen him three times, at about the same time each evening?” “His client lives in the neighborhood?” “It’s all shops and restaurants around the bookstore.” “True, except for the lofts halfway down the block and a couple of fancy condo complexes pretty close by. His client could live in one of them. Or your man could and he’s on his way home.” “He’s not my man,” Kent grumbled as he thought about what she’d said. “Possible, I suppose, though he doesn’t look like a loft kind of guy.” “Meaning he’s not artsy-fartsy.” She grinned. “So he’s meeting someone for dinner. God only knows there’s a dozen high-end restaurants around. Not that I can afford to eat at one, but a girl can dream.” “Speaking of which, want to join me for supper?” “Depends. Who’s cooking?” He knew it was a valid question because more than once he’d invited her over because her culinary skills were a hell of a lot better than his. “I’ll toss you,” he replied. Kelly rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ll cook, but it’s going to be something simple. I’m beat.” “You’re too young to be tired this early.” She huffed. “I’m nineteen, thank you. Almost past marriageable age if this was a Jane Austen novel.” “But you, being a modern woman, won’t even consider marriage until you’re at least thirty.” “You do have a point. Okay, do you have hamburger or chicken defrosted?” “Hamburger.” He chuckled. “Meaning we get burgers, which I could make on my own.” “Depends on what else you’ve got. I’ll let you know after I check your fridge.” They were silent for the remainder of the ride while he navigated the heavy homeward-bound traffic on Sixth before turning left onto Colorado. Three blocks later he pulled into their building’s parking garage. Then it was a quick elevator ride up to his fourth-floor apartment. The minute they were inside, Kelly made a beeline to the kitchen. “When’s the last time you went shopping?” she called out after she took out the hamburger. “Maybe a week ago?” Kent shrugged as he went into his bedroom to get rid of his work shirt and tie and put on a T-shirt before joining her, leaning against the end of the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. “You should have bought…Oh, never mind.” She gathered up two tomatoes, a zucchini that was well past its prime according to her, and the last potato. “Dice these, please.” While he did, she browned and crumbled the hamburger. When he’d finished, she got a shallow bowl, put the vegetables into it, covered them with the hamburger and salsa, topped the mix with grated cheese, and stuck the bowl in the microwave. “What did you call that?” Kelly grinned. “Clean out the fridge burritos without the tortillas.” “Works for me.” He got out two sodas, handed her one and then set the counter for supper. By the time he’d finished, the microwave dinged. Kelly took the bowl out, stuck a large serving spoon in it, and they sat down to eat. “This is pretty damned good,” Kent told her after filling his plate and taking a couple of bites. “Of course it is. I made it.” He rolled his eyes. “No ego there.” “Nope. The master chef has struck again.” They ate in companionable silence after that. When they finished, he cleaned the counter and did the dishes while she wandered over to his drawing table in one corner of the living room. Three framed pictures hung on the wall above it—two of ads he’d created he was especially proud of, the third a watercolor a neighbor had done of their parents standing in front of the family house. She gave it to them for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. “You have to stop bringing work home with you,” she chastised, looking at several mockups for an advertisement that were scattered on the table. “Yeah, I know, but as I’ve told you before, sometimes it’s easier to get a grip on what I want to do when I don’t feel like Mr. Allan is breathing down my neck.” “And I’ve told you, I don’t think that’s a good thing. If he makes you feel less than competent, he’s a lousy boss.” “It’s not that. He’s a micro-manager, which normally doesn’t bother me, unless I want to try something different, like with those.” He had joined her as they talked and now he gestured at the drawings. “This particular client is too conservative in what they normally ask from us. I think they’d do better with an ad that’s edgy. It would appeal to younger people, and that would bring in more business.” “Mr. Allan doesn’t agree?” “I think he will when he sees the finished product. It’s getting there without him telling me that’s not what the client asked for that’s the problem. So…” “Okay, that makes sense. Be sure you get it done before the weekend.” “Why?” “Because, my dear brother, you need to get out of here and do something different. You’ve spent too much time by yourself since you broke up with that asshole. It’s time to see the real world and explore your options, again.” “Words of wisdom from the girl who dates a different guy every month.” She grinned. “Like I said, exploring options. How will I find the right one if I don’t discover what I like and don’t like?” “You have a point. Maybe, if I finish these to my satisfaction in time to take them in on Friday, I’ll…Yeah, it’s the First Friday Art Walk along Santa Fe.” “That’s a start, I guess,” Kelly replied dryly. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but…” “Since you’re not coming with me, you don’t have to worry.” “You’re my older, very single brother.” She hugged him. “I’ll worry about you until you settle down with a man who’s good for you. And on that note, I’m going home. Thank you for supper.” “Thank you for making it. It saved me from another night of hamburgers.” “I swear, I’m going to get one of the cooking-for-one cookbooks from work for you so you can expand your culinary horizons.” He laughed, hugging her when they got to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” “And maybe your dangerous man, too, while you’re waiting.” “Unlikely. It’s not like he’s there on a daily basis.” She grinned. “You wish he was.” “Nope. It’s interesting speculating about him, but that’s it, so rein in your over active imagination.” “That’ll never happen.” She winked and took off. He waited until she got on the elevator before going into his apartment, closing and locking the door after him. Then he settled down to work on what he hoped would be the new and different ad that both Mr. Allan and the client, Mr. Carmichael, would like. * * * * Kent submitted the Carmichael ad to his boss on Friday morning. Mr. Allan studied it with a jaundiced eye, which had Kent worrying he’d reject it out of hand. Then his boss smiled. “It’s different, and not what he asked for, but I think when he sees it he’s going to go for it, with a little push on my part. You did a great job, Kent.” “Thank you.” “Now, how are you coming along with…?” They discussed two other ads Kent was working on, with Mr. Allan making suggestions for some minor changes, and from there the day progressed as usual for Kent. It was almost five that afternoon when he submitted them to Mr. Allan, and learned when he did, the one he’d created for Mr. Carmichael had made the man very happy, “Once he got past how different it was from his norm. That took some fast talking,” Mr. Allan told him. “Now he wants some others along the same line. You can start on them Monday morning.” Kent resisted pumping a fist. He loved it when his vision helped a client take a different look at what their ads were supposed to accomplish. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he knew he’d chosen the right career, his mother’s opinion to the contrary. She had hoped he’d do something ‘normal’, as she put it, like working in a bank or an investment firm, like his uncles. He left to pick up Kelly, cursing rush-hour as he drove up Lincoln into downtown. He considered himself lucky when he found a parking space two doors down from the bookstore. As he waited for her, he kept an eye open for the dangerous looking man. He didn’t expect to see him, and he was right. The man was nowhere in sight, nor had he been since the previous Tuesday evening. I’m fixating on him, which is ridiculous. He shook his head. Kelly’s right, I need to get a life. “Was he around?” Kelly asked, getting into the car. He pulled into traffic before replying, “If you mean the Dangerous Man, nope. I did see our not so esteemed mayor, the Prince of Wales, and, oh yes, Madonna.” He laughed when she smacked his arm. “It’s not like he shows up every day. I told you that.” “But you wish he would so you could figure out how to meet him.” “Not even. I’m not sure I’d want to. I prefer men who won’t make me want to look over my shoulder in case someone’s coming after them, or me.” “He’d be a big change from the asshole. How you hooked up with him anyway…” She shook her head. “His name should have been your first clue he wasn’t right for you.” “Kel, honestly.” He shot her a sour look before ceding the point. “I suppose so. With a name like Maitland I should have known he’d be an insufferable snob.” “I tried to tell you, but no-o-o. You were too besotted with his surface charm.” “Besotted? Have you been hitting up the Thesaurus again?” She flipped him off as he turned onto Sixth, which earned her a grin. After melding into the eastbound traffic, he returned to the original conversation. “To start with, you’re presuming Mr. Dangerous might be gay, which is doubtful. Not every man I find intriguing is, damn it.” She grinned. “But you keep hoping.” “I don’t,” he protested with a laugh. “I’m not that desperate. Changing the subject, do you want to come with me to the Art Walk?” “Nope. Tom’s taking me to the movies.” “Tom? I don’t think you’ve told me about him.” “Because I only met him a couple of hours ago, at work. He was looking for books about old movies, we got to talking and he asked if I’d seen The Maltese Falcon. It’s playing at the Mayan as part of their retro week festival.” “Of course you lied and told him you hadn’t because he’s cute.” “Nope. I said I had, and it’s one of my favorites. And he’s not cute. He’s just nice, I think, I hope. He’s older than me…” “Isn’t every guy you meet?” Kent broke in with a grin. “Smartass. I mean like your age or maybe a bit older. Anyway, he asked if I wanted to see it again, with him, and I said yes.” “Ah, okay. So, what does he do when he’s not picking up pretty girls at bookstores?” Kelly snorted. “He wasn’t doing that. It was purely spontaneous since we both like old movies. He’s a waiter and also works part-time for his uncle’s landscaping company.” “All right. When do I get to meet him?” “Going all ‘big brother’ on me?” She chuckled. “It depends on whether he asks me out again after tonight. This could be a one-time thing. Me keeping him company watching a movie we both love. If he does, then I’ll introduce you so you can grill him about his intentions.” “Would I do that?” “You did with, um, what was his name? Oh, yeah, Carson.” Kelly grinned. “It took him two weeks to recover. By then I knew I wasn’t really interested in him, so it was bye, bye, Carson.” “I live to serve.” Kent winked. “Someday, you’re going to meet the right guy and make me an uncle, when you decide you’re tired of being the playgirl of the western world.” She stuck out her tongue. “I’m not that bad. At least I’m not sleeping with them.” “I know. You’re smarter than that.” He patted her shoulder before pulling into the apartment building’s parking garage. “What time is he picking you up?” “At seven, so I guess you have to make your own supper.” “Eh. I’ll probably stop at one of the restaurants or food trucks while I’m at the art fair.” They walked to the elevator, then, when it reached the second floor, she got out. “Have fun,” he told her. “Planning on it. You, too.” He grinned. “Planning on it.”