Unlikely (6 page)

Sophie stared into the rainbow
-hued jumble that was her closet. What in the heck was she gonna wear today? That was the question of the seven o’clock hour. There was nothing the least bit subtle or understated about her clothing—or her life for that matter. She would probably never admit it to her friends, and never to her family even under the threat of death, but a small but growing part of her was tired of all the bright, attention-getting outfits and outrageous colored hair. Wrapped in a gray silk kimono that matched her eyes perfectly, she wondered if her friends would recognize her if she came to the Equia volunteer event in a plain white Gap t-shirt and jeans. Probably not.

The multicolored hair, multiple piercings, and attention-grabbing garments which made up Sophie’s signature style had started in high school. She’d begun coloring her strawberry blonde hair because she’d always hated the color, and it was easier to color her hair in bright hues than continue to live with the perpetual teasing that befell redheads. The other
accouterments—the piercings and the tight, bright clothes—had started as a rebellion against her parents and her conservative upbringing. Her parents never acknowledged her artistic talents and belittled her achievements. Selena’s perfect grades were the stuff of family legend. It’s what made her parents proud. Although she hadn’t realized it then, she’d desperately wanted their attention and if she couldn’t get it for the positive things she did, then the fourth or fifth earring and purple hair at her sister’s prep school graduation surely did.

Resigning herself to her chosen fate, Sophie pulled out multi-hued blue tie dyed overalls and a sports bra. She laid the clothing on the bed then rummaged through her jars of temporary hair dye that lined a small shelf in her closet until she came upon royal blue. If a change was in order, today was probably not the day to go cold turkey.

She let Sasha out and made sure her neighbors could check on and feed her if she got back later than the dog’s dinnertime. When Nick’s father Dominic pulled up in his white pick-up truck, Sophie jumped in, ready to get on with the day. Now that Holly was dating Nick, she didn’t feel bad taking advantage of his father’s generosity. She’d known Nick since he got to L.A., and Dominic was always offering to help “the kids”—as he called them. Now that they were practically family—she let him help.

“Well, you give new meaning to idea of a blue-haired lady,” Dominic said, chuckling.

“Thanks for carpooling with me,” she said, ignoring the friendly jibe. “You know your way around the L.A. area better than anyone I know. There’s no reason for me to get lost trying to find this Korby Center.”

“For you, pretty girl, it’s no problem,” he said, winking at her, and then returned his eyes to the road.

Sophie had never been good at accepting compliments. Deep in her heart, she simply didn’t believe that anyone could mean them. Her mother had been stunning when she was younger. Selie was pretty, downright beautiful if she made any effort at it. Sophie had always been the plain one. Her gray eyes weren’t the brilliant blue of her mother and sister. Her hair, which had been the bane of her existence as a child, had dulled from a frightening carroty orange to what she thought was a nondescript reddish blond. And while she knew that the rest of her features wouldn’t scare off children at Halloween, they were, in her opinion, nothing special. Certainly, no man she’d dated had ever said so.

Dominic knew all the shortcuts and they made it to the Korby Center in Compton with time to spare. Even though Sophie’s best friend Holly arranged a number of volunteer events for Equia, one of L.A.’s largest companies, she was occasionally shorthanded, especially when the projects were in the less desirable areas of town. Sophie was always available to lend a hand for a good cause and to help her friend.

Sophie was in the center’s recreation room, bent double, rolling up her pant leg and tightening the fraying laces on her ancient Chuck Taylor’s, when she heard the man speak.

“Well good morning to you, Ms. Sophie Reid,” he said.

She looked up, startled to see Ryan. “How did you find out my name?” she asked ungraciously. Her mother would have been apoplectic at her horrible manners.

Holly, who had just walked into the room to drop off paint and supplies, tut-tutted Sophie. “Don’t be so rude, hon. I didn’t think your name was a state secret. It just so happens that Ryan and I both work at Equia. He mentioned saving a red dog with a yellow haired woman and I just knew it was you in all your rainbow glory. It was funny though,” she said with a quick grin, “he didn’t seem to have any idea what your name was. Imagine that?” Holly left the room as quickly as she had entered, and
Sophie and Ryan were completely alone for the first time since she had run from his house, proverbial tail between her legs.

“Ha, ha, Holly,” Sophie grumbled to her friend’s retreating back. “Good morning to you too, Mister Ryan Becker,” she said, continuing to crouch down to tend to the other shoe. She desperately hoped he
couldn’t see how her hands suddenly trembled.

She took in quiet
, measured breaths attempting to control her heart rate. Even though she had glanced up at him only a second, his image had burned in her mind. She knew without looking that his jeans and t-shirt molded deliciously to his body, though they looked as if he had just stolen them from a perfectly formed mannequin. Even like this, weeks later, he still had the ability to take her breath away. In the scant two weeks she had not seen him, she’d almost been able to convince herself that the kisses they’d shared had been fortuitous, that their electric connection had been a figment of her overactive imagination.

Ryan offered his hand to help her stand when she finished tying her shoe. She grasped his strong fingers reluctantly. Touching him was like putting her hand to fire. How could she have not remembered the flame that burned between them? She instinctively pulled her hand back and, a little unstable, she lost her balance, tipping and landing against his broad muscular chest. She straightened up, but their bodies were still joined, breast to hip. Losing her balance felt like a metaphor of their relationship up until now. When she was around him, she felt unbalanced. She looked up at him and knew that her feelings showed on her face.

As Sophie got her bearings, her awareness of Ryan increased in proportion to the sudden hardness of his erection that swelled against her stomach. Afraid that she had shown too much vulnerability in that brief moment, Sophie’s quickly slid her public mask back in place. Miming a cigar between her fingers, she put on her best Groucho Marx voice. “Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

He tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes. “I think we’ll need to finish this later,” he said, then kissed her somewhat chastely on the lips,
probably sensitive to the fact that one of the young residents could come in at any time. Her breathing accelerated, her arousal quickly matching his. The tips of her breasts felt like they were on fire even through the thick layers of her sports bra and overalls.

Holly popped her head back into the room at just the wrong moment. She slapped her free hand over her eyes dramatically. “I’m not seeing anything. Just make sure the residents don’t either,” she said, sounding a little
schoolmarms. Sophie knew that she was in the wrong and decided it was probably unwise to comment on her friend’s prudish tone just now. Holly peeked between her now separated fingers.

“Ryan, why don’t you help me unload the trees and plants from the delivery truck?”

“I’ll be with you in just one second,” Ryan said, though his gaze never broke from Sophie’s. Looking down, he cautiously put a few inches between him and Sophie.

“We’re not even close to done here, Ms. Sophie Reid,” he whispered.
After he adjusted what needed adjusting, he followed Holly from the room.

With all the volunteers accounted for by nine thirty, Holly pulled out a very efficient looking clipboard and delegated duties. The kids from the center and those Nick had invited from a charter school he was involved with were assigned to yard duty, removing the dead and dying brush and planting donated plants and saplings. Whether it was a blessing or curse Sophie didn’t yet know, but she was assigned to painting duty with Dominic, Nick, Ryan, and Holly. She was glad there wasn’t much time to talk that morning.

They spread out drop cloths in the rooms to be painted and covered up the few pieces of remaining furniture. Dominic, who was semi-retired from dozens of years as a general contractor, gave them a quick yet thorough lesson in painting with rollers, and they got to work. Starting in one of the girls’ rooms, Dominic painted the edges of the ceiling, cutting in the corners. Sophie and Holly, working together, filled in the ceilings with the sparkling white paint. Nick, Ryan, and another volunteer started in another area of the house.

By the second bedroom, they’d established a good rhythm.

“I think you should give him a chance,” Holly said, pausing her back and forth movement and resting the roller in the paint tray.

“I can’t believe you told him who I was and invited him here,” she mumbled
.

“I didn’t think you’d mind this much,” Holly confessed.

“But you know I don’t date lawyers. That I don’t date at all, really.” Sophie paused, pushing the paint roller through the paint, watching the thick white liquid oozing under the applicator. “And you know damn well why,” she murmured.

“He’s a really nice guy who I think is interested in you for you, not because you’re a novelty or because you’re the judge’s daughter.”

“Maybe you should be taking your own advice. You’ve known Nick for years, but won’t consider a
real
relationship with him because he doesn’t have a couch?” she countered.

“Look, you may be right. But that’s an issue for another day. I won’t let you change the subject on me.” Holly gave up the pretense of painting and sat cross-legged on the drop cloth. Sophie joined her, resting the pole of the roller on the floor. “You know I rarely give advice and don’t butt into other people’s business. My grandmother taught me better. But I love you like a sister, and I want you to be happy.”

“But I am happy,” Sophie countered. “I love my job. I have great friends. And I’ve just adopted the most wonderful puppy.”

“Okay, I’ll agree that your life is just dandy. Great sex can put icing on that cake.”

Sophie stared intently at her pant cuffs.

Dominic poked his head in the room. “You gals would never survive on a job site,” he tsked. “Trust women to get into a hen session.” He waved his hand in an upward sweeping motion. “I’ve cut in the last bedroom. C’mon and fill that in. Then we can get started on the walls.”

Sophie stood up quickly, kicked her high-tops together, and gestured in a mock salute to Dominic. “Yes, sir. We’re on it, sir.”

Holly laughed. They all knew Dominic was a softy under the gruff, mock-sexist exterior. Dominic walked back across the hall, Holly gathered up the paint, and Sophie carefully carried the rollers, trying to prevent any drips. When they set everything down in the final bedroom, Sophie broke the silence.

“I’ll think about what you said. Seriously, I promise,” she said, solemnly crossing her heart with her right index finger. “It’s just that I don’t think Ryan will wave some magic wand and set my inner sex pot free.” Though she liked the feel of his wand.

They quickly
painted the last ceiling and gathered in the recreation room, where the guys were almost done painting the periwinkle blue walls. Sophie couldn’t help notice that Ryan’s hair was damp against the nape of his neck and his muscles bunched with effort. The crowded room helped her fight her urge to touch him.

Holly assigned a couple of kids to wash their paint supplies in the utility room. She set out some mini bagels, cream cheese, and orange juice, inviting everyone in for a quick mid-morning break. Sophie, who was usually in the middle of any fray, sat off to the side, thoughtfully chewing her tiny bagel. Dominic, who never missed an opportunity to eat, sat beside her on the tarp-covered couch.

“It’s been a long time since I saw you, girlie. How are you?” In the past, Sophie had seen Dominic a lot more often. Holly was known for her large holiday gatherings and Nick and his dad had stopped by a lot when Nick had been working for Holly’s ex-husband. Dominic had always seen through Sophie’s tough-girl façade and they had taken a liking to each other. He continued before she could answer. “It looks like you’ve got a new hole in your ear since the last time I saw you.”

Sophie fingered the last of the hoops along the shell of her left ear. “It’s probably the last one. I think they hurt more the older you get
.”

“I hear that you’re giving that guy Ryan over there a hard time,” he said, gesturing toward the men laughing in the corner of the room.

“Aw, Dominic, not you too,” Sophie cried in mock surrender. “I give up.”

“You girls are so hard on nice guys these days. First Holly, and now you. What does a guy have to do to get a girl interested?”

“I can’t speak for Holly,” Sophie said, “but dating’s hard in the new millennium.”

“What’s so hard? My Iris and I never had all these problems,” he said, referring to his now deceased wife. “You liked the way a girl looked, you asked her out. You saw a movie, had a hamburger, and talked. If you liked each other, you did it again. If not, you did it again with another person until you got it right.”