Bliss sat at the family dining table, trying to concentrate on her work despite constant interruptions. For some reason, her mother could not understand that talking while Bliss was trying to think was the same as interrupting.
“Is it so terrible to be back home? You’ve done nothing but mope for days.”
Her mother stirred the pasta sauce bubbling on the stove. The tangy tomatoes mixed with garlic and spices smelled like home. Under other circumstances, it would be wonderful. If Bliss were in her own apartment, she would have simply opened a jar. Try to be nice.
“I’m sorry, Ma. It’s not bad. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
Bliss sighed. “I don’t know. I feel like a nine-year-old when I’m back home, letting you cook for me, sleeping in my old bedroom.”
Her mother wiped her hands on her apron. “If you were married, I’d let you have the guest room.”
“And give up the opportunity to sleep in a bunk bed again?” Bliss slapped a hand over her heart in a dramatic gesture. “Perish the thought.”
“Yeah, yeah, Miss Sarcastic. Look, we don’t know how long you’ll be here. It could be months or years, and what if your married brothers and their lovely wives come to visit?”
Bliss tried not to groan out loud. “Why would they stay over? They live less than a mile away.”
“You never know. Besides, your sister and her husband could decide to visit from India at any time. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a short stay. The thing is, you should be married and in your own home by now. If you were married, you could forget about that silly competition. I’m sure your husband would support you no matter what happened in life. It’s good to have someone you can count on, and Daddy and I won’t be here forever. The older you get, the more I worry. I was married by the time I was twenty.”
“You were pregnant with Ricky.”
“No I wasn’t. Your brother was born early. And for your information, your father and I had been engaged for two years, so we were ready to settle down. We just waited until he graduated from the tech. You’re nearly twenty-eight! What are you waiting for?”
It was the same old argument. Bliss didn’t know why they continued with the charade. Her brother would have had to be about four months early to make the timeline work. She usually let it go, but maybe if she pursued it, her mother would be the one to shut up and let her get back to work.
“Why did Nonna and Nonno rush the wedding plans?”
“There was no rush. I just wanted a June wedding. If you want to talk about a rush, your grandmother was married at the age of eighteen after a two-week engagement.”
“And look how well that worked out. The two of them bickered each other into early graves.”
Her mother crossed herself and faced Bliss head-on. “That’s just how they communicated. They loved each other dearly. Why do you think they had six children?”
Bliss smirked. “I don’t know… lack of birth control?”
Her mother tossed her hands in the air. “You have an answer for everything. Always did.”
“Speaking of which, I should get back to work. I need to put into words all the things people are too afraid to say.”
“That business of yours is what scares the men away. Honestly, the vicious things you write in those cards… it’s dreadful. And now, because of that stupid TV show, everyone will know about it.”
“Hopefully. My cards are funny and people love them. If I get the kind of exposure I think we’re going to get, I should sell tons.”
“I’ll never understand that. If anyone gave me one of your cards, I’d be very upset.”
You don’t know how close you’ve come to getting one. Her mother would also never know how many snarky cards she’d inspired. There was just too much rich material to ignore. “I really do need to get working.”
As Bliss strolled toward the adjoining dining room, her mother said, “Why don’t you work at the desk in your room? It was always where you did your homework.”
“Because I like my legs at a ninety-degree angle and under the surface I’m working on. If I sat at my old desk, my butt would be below my knees and they’d bump up against the side of the desk. Why are you keeping that old thing anyway?”
“You never know… Maybe I’ll have a grandchild someday after all.”
“Emilio and Ricky are married. Why don’t you bug them about having kids?”
“Who says I haven’t?”
Bliss chuckled. “I love my brothers, but thank God it’s not just me.”
Her mother crossed her arms. “Aren’t you worried about your biological clock?”
Hell no. The alarm isn’t going off and won’t for years. “Ma, I don’t want to marry the wrong man just to have kids.”
“Has it never occurred to you that you might marry the right man? Honestly, you’re such a pessimist.”
“I am not. I just have a pessimistic life.”
“Oh, really? What’s so bad about your life?”
“For one thing, I cannot work in this house, and I have a deadline to meet.”
“Deadline, shmedline… Why are they giving you a deadline? Are there greeting card emergencies?”
“Mom. I’m finally hopeful of landing big contracts. Remember how it was in the beginning? Me helping my big sister take cards to craft fairs and small gift shops? How many did she sell?”
“I have no idea.”
“Not a hell of a lot. If she didn’t have a friend in advertising, she might never have gotten the business off the ground. Now that she’s entrusted it to me, I want to make it an even bigger success.”
“If success was so important to her, then she wouldn’t have left the business and moved to India. I’m sure she’d understand if you wanted to quit and get a real job. Maybe you’d meet someone if you worked in an office.”
Bliss actually bit her tongue and counted to ten.
“And this contract is important, I take it.” Her mother prattled on as if Bliss hadn’t said any of the angry, sarcastic things streaming through her brain. Oh, that’s right… for once I managed not to.
“Yes, Mama. It’s a make-it-or-break-it moment. If I deliver the designs I envisioned in the finale, I could win, and Hall-Snark cards will be in all the large chain stores.”
“And if you don’t?”
“It’s back to the craft fairs.”
“Is that so bad? You could do it as a hobby if you were married.”
Bliss wanted to knock her head against the table—repeatedly.
Drake waited outside the Shamrock to meet the female dragon. He leaned casually against the large window made up of several smaller panes, feeling anything but casual. Cool, calm, collected—nope. All of those positive traits had deserted him.
Mating with a human would never produce the children he wanted to have someday. Not just wanted… he needed to have them to save the species. He would do his best to find a female dragon, settle down, and propagate like mad. Only another dragon could do that.
He checked his watch again. Four o’clock on the dot. He saw no one who looked as confident as a lady dragon with dark hair and a silver streak down the middle walking toward him.
A motorcycle roared up to the curb, and the black-leather-clad rider pulled off his helmet. Correction. Her helmet. Long, matted, dark dreadlocks fell over her pierced eyebrow, past her pierced nose and pierced lip to her shoulders, and horrors, a shock of silver hair flowed from her widow’s peak.
“Zina?”
“Dat me. And ya be Drake, naa?”
“Uh-huh.” Too late to deny it. Somehow, it had never occurred to him that the lady dragon might be a dragon lady. A tough biker chick with a crazy accent.
Bliss popped into his mind again. She seemed like a direct contrast to this, and he didn’t even know Zina yet. He doubted this chick could measure up to beautiful, funny, intelligent Bliss and, well… he really needed to give Zina a chance before he made rash judgments. It was important because she was a dragon. Maybe the only single female dragon he’d ever find.
She dismounted her bike and chained it to a nearby tree. Then she planted her hands on her hips and said, “So, are ya gonna to buy me bagjuice, or wha?”
Bagjuice? Drake would have preferred the “or what” but she had come from somewhere far away to meet him, so buying her a drink was the least he could do. She had a heavy island accent, but he could make out what she was trying to say… barely. With the Rasta hair and accent, he’d guess she was from Jamaica. There’s something I can open a conversation with.
“We goin?”
He made himself smile. “Of course. After you.” He gestured toward the Shamrock’s front door.
“Me bet you wanna see me backside.”
“Er… or I could just want to be a gentleman.”
She shrugged. “Mehbe, but me rather ya seein me backside. Is strong as rock.” She smacked her ass and swished it into the bar.
What could he say to that? Nothing. Say nothing, Drake.
She picked a table and sat on the side closest to the door. Damn. If he wanted to flee, he’d have to pass her and she’d probably grab his arm. Dragons, even in human form, had excellent reflexes.
She eyed him as he sat down. “So, mon. Do ya do da workout?”
“What? Do I work out? I’m having a hard time understanding you sometimes.”
Her lips thinned. “Ya wan me do speaky-spoky?”
He had no idea what she’d just said, so he thought he’d better skip it and carry on. “In answer to your question, sometimes I work out. There’s exercise equipment at the station. If I’m bored or haven’t had any runs for a while, I’ll lift weights or…” Why did her eyes just narrow?
“Station? Ya a cop?”
“No. Firefighter.”
“Whew. Aright.” She seemed to relax.
“I take it you don’t like cops?”
“Nah, me no like dem.”
She didn’t offer any further explanation, but he could guess she’d been on the wrong side of the law at some point. He honestly didn’t care enough to pursue the subject, so he let it drop. Suddenly, he wondered why mating with another dragon mattered so much. The thought of doing what he had to do with this woman was completely distasteful.
He’d be polite, have a drink with her, then be on his way and never look for a female dragon again. He wanted Bliss more than ever.
As their conversation wore on, he found himself unable to interpret what she was saying on several occasions. Apparently she was renting a condo just outside the city in a nice neighborhood. She wanted to find a “bupps,” whatever that was, and she valued her “kulcha.”
“So, why did you ask if I worked out? Do you belong to a gym?”
“Me buildin gots one. Ya go dere sometime?”
Uh-oh. Change the subject, quick. “You have beautiful eyes.” Why the hell did I say that? Now she’ll think I like her.
She leaned back and looked smug. “Ya wanna cock it up? Me be ya baby mudda?”
Oh, crap. He figured this might be a good time to use the language barrier to his advantage. “I’m really sorry, Zina. I’m afraid I’m just having too hard a time understanding you. It was nice to meet you, though. I’ll pay for our drinks on the way out.” He rose and tried to walk past her.
Her hand shot out, clamped around his wrist, and squeezed. “I see. Perhaps you’d prefer I speak the King’s English with a Brrritish accent?”
“What the…” Why the hell did she use the island accent if she— Oh, no. Does she have multiple personalities? Drake twisted his wrist, trying to extricate himself from her grasp, but she held on tight.
“I can talk like you do too, Mr. All-American.”
He gave up the struggle, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Okaaay. If you were perfectly capable of eliminating your accent, why did you make it so hard for me to understand you?”
“It was fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah, fun. You should have seen your face.” She finally let go of him.
Drake rubbed his wrist. “Hmmm… Well, I really do have to leave.”
Before he took a step, she enunciated, “Sit. Back. Down.”
He folded his arms and stood his ground. “I can’t. There’s somewhere I need to be.”
“Where?”
“My annual firefighter’s physical,” he said, without missing a beat. It wasn’t until next month, but she didn’t have to know that.
She stared at him a moment, then wrote a phone number on her cocktail napkin and shoved it at him. “Here. Call me when you can take a joke.”
“What if that never happens?”
“Call me anyway.”
Drake folded the napkin and stuffed it in his pocket.
She leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile, as if she knew her will would be obeyed. And just to rub in the point of her being a female dragon, her eyes shimmered gold.
I’m sorry, Mother. I just can’t do it. Even you wouldn’t want me to marry this bat-shit crazy dragon to continue the species.
“I’m going to check greeting card companies. Maybe I can find the brunette there.”
He had told the guys about the Internet producing a disastrous blind date. They encouraged him to keep trying, but what he really needed to do was delete his profile completely. He ambled toward the community room that housed the computers.
“I hope you find her,” Ralph said. “We’ve run out of friends to introduce you to. And none of us would let you near our sisters.”
“Good thing,” Drake called over his shoulder, “if they’re as ugly as you mucks.”
“Ha. You wish,” Mike said. “Irish girls are the prettiest in the world—or at least in Boston. Brazil might have a few chicks worth lookin’ at.”
While Mike and Ralph debated the best places to find good-looking women, Drake settled himself in front of the PC and typed in his user name and password. I’ll delete my profile right after checking my last lead. He searched for “greeting card companies.” Bliss was the woman he wanted, if only he could find her.
Up came a list of them. He scanned and scanned and scanned some more. Holy shit. There must be a hundred of them. And those were just the A’s.
He slammed the lid shut. The card she’d made didn’t have a logo or company name on the back. Apparently, she’d whipped it up on the fly, so he had no idea which card company to call. The TV show wasn’t airing yet, and he couldn’t get any information on the candidates. You’d think they were protecting the next high-tech product from corporate spies.
All he knew was her first name and that she owned the struggling company. Maybe I could get her last name from the condo association.
Since everyone in the small building had been displaced, he doubted that possibility. Even if he did locate someone, the idea that they’d just hand over personal information about one of the residents to a total stranger was remote. He literally sagged in defeat.
With nothing else to do unless the fire alarm blared, he went to the online version of the daily newspaper. He checked the back issues until he found the one from the day after the fire. Maybe an article in the local news about the structure burning would provide a clue.
Fortunately, it must have been a slow news day and the paper had a photograph of the mayhem. There he was on the side lawn, kissing—or rather, being kissed by—the beautiful but elusive Bliss. Her back was to the camera, so he couldn’t even show her picture around the neighborhood. Damn.
But the timeliness of the photo brought up another question. Could it be arson? Where did the picture come from? Was it provided by a citizen with a camera phone or a local reporter with a cameraman? If the latter, how did they get there so quickly? Did someone tip them off? Drake didn’t remember seeing anyone. Bystanders were kept at a distance. The picture may have been taken with a telephoto lens, but the angle suggested the photographer was nearby.
An arson investigator would have been assigned to the case. Even if it wasn’t arson, a fire investigator would try to determine the fire’s cause and point of origin. Maybe I could talk to him. You never know what kind of clues might wind up in the rubble.
Drake knew he was reaching, but one of his double-edged traits was his tenacity. He wouldn’t give up the search for her easily.
“Claudia, my mother is driving me crazy,” Bliss stood on the porch and whispered loudly into the phone.
“Ugh. What is she doing?”
Bliss let out a long sigh. “One minute she’s treating me like a kid, and the next she’s begging me to get married. Aren’t there laws against marrying off little kids?”
“It sounds like you need a night on the town.”
“Oh, yes, please!”
Bliss’s mother opened the front door. “What are you doing out here, Blissy?”
“Argh. I told you not to call me that anymore.”
Her mother shrugged. “It’s your nickname, isn’t it?”
Bliss pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ma, I’m on the phone.”
“I can see that. Who are you talking to?”
Bliss thrust the phone into her mother’s hand. “Here. Why don’t you ask her?”
Her mother made a sound of disgust and pushed the phone back toward Bliss. “I don’t want to interrupt. I was just curious.”
“It’s not your future son-in-law, okay?” Bliss took back the phone and waited while her mother returned to the house and shut the door.
Whispering frantically to Claudia, she said, “Do you see what I mean?”
“Oh, Lord. You need more than a night out. You need to go shopping for a new apartment.”
“No kidding. Have you heard of any?”
“I’m asking around but so far the only places I’ve heard about are too expensive.”
“I guess I’ll have to empty my savings and pay a Realtor to find a decent place I can afford. It was good of you to look, but I can’t stay here much longer.”
“How did you hear about your last place?” Claudia asked.
“My printer told me about it. Her neighbor was going to China and needed to sublet.”
“So you just kind of fell into it. It could happen that way again…” Claudia didn’t sound as confident as her words.
“I’m afraid I’ll wind up committing murder if I stay here. If I look at it that way, the Realtor will be a bargain.”
“True. So when are you coming into the city again? I’ll make dinner reservations at that place we wanted to try on Prince Street.”
“How about now?”
Claudia laughed. “Oh, brother. You’re really desperate.”
“Did you not hear my interfering mother? At least I got a new greeting card out of it.”
“Cool. Let me hear it!”
“Mother, dearest, I know you mean well, but knock off the nagging—it’s a guilt trip to hell.”
“It’s not your best, but you’re probably off your game right now.”
“Probably?”
“I know. I sympathize.”
“What do you know about it? Your parents live in Florida.”
“Thank goodness. So, let’s pick a night when you can come into the city and stay at my place overnight.”
“I may never leave…”
“Threatening me won’t help your cause.”
“Sorry. Listen, I’ll call a Realtor.” Bliss shifted from foot to foot. “Then I’ll call you back when I have some appointments and we can get together the night before, if I can stay with you.”
“Of course. Maybe you can look up the hottie fireman you were telling me about.”
After a sad pause, Bliss said, “He’s tall, blond, heroic, and did I mention absolutely gorgeous? What would he want with a broad like me?”
“Stop it. Using the word ‘broad’ makes you sound like you’re from the nineteen-thirties.”
“Great. My mother thinks I’m a kid one minute and an old maid the next. Now you think I’m a grandmother from the nineteen-thirties. I’m getting a little messed up.”
Claudia sighed. “Don’t worry. We’ll sort you out.”
“I hope so. Well, I should go and call a Realtor.”
“Okay. Oh, and Bliss?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t be too hard on your mother. She just wants what she thinks is best for you.”
“Well, homicide isn’t best for either of us. Unless a nice homicide detective shows up. Then I’m sure her spirit will forgive me.”
“Maybe I’ll have better luck with the B’s,” Drake muttered. “After all, her name is Bliss.” He drifted off into a fantasy of how blissful it would be to make love to her.
He had called every greeting card company beginning with A and had to stop to recharge his phone. He felt like a dork asking for Bliss each time and being told he had a wrong number, or worse. Some people treated him like a pervert! But if that was the only way to find her, he’d keep it up until he reached the last Z or his phone died permanently.
As he was about to check his battery again, the alarm went off and the firehouse sprang to life. The guys put on their gear and used the pole to get to the garage quickly.
“Any luck?” Benjamin asked.
“No, but I’ve just started.” No one had to know he’d made sixty calls already.
Drake was glad for the distraction. He could drive himself a little crazy when he became obsessed with something or, in this case, someone. He really had to learn to let go.
He jumped up into the ladder truck and leaned out the window. Before long, they were rolling out onto the road.
They were heading to Boylston Street. Not far from the area where Bliss had lived before the fire. Maybe she still has friends in the neighborhood and… He shook his head hard, as if to sweep her out of his mind. Knock it off, Cameron. Chances are slim that she’s still nearby. She said she was going to be living with her parents and they could be anywhere.
When they rolled up to the school building, nothing seemed amiss except for the smoke alarm going off inside and dozens of people standing around on the sidewalk.
The chief ordered the public back, clearing the area.
Drake grabbed an ax and led his comrades inside. No smoke on the first floor. They continued up the stairs and did a sweep of the second, then the third. So far, nothing. Must have been a false alarm. It happened, especially in schools. Probably a student didn’t want to take an exam until he or she had more time to study.
Little bastards. Why can’t they give up a night of partying and study like they’re supposed to?
When the building had been thoroughly checked and the alarm turned off, he trudged out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, in the crowd across the street, he thought he caught a glimpse of her. It couldn’t be. It’s probably just…
A couple with a stroller moved and he got a better look. Holy shit. It is her!
He charged across the street and grabbed the surprised, elusive woman by the arms. “Bliss. That’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She was staring at him as if she had just seen a ghost.
“I’ve been…” Whoa. Play it cool, Cameron. “I was hoping to run into you again. Thanks for the creative card. Where are you staying?”
The chief yelled over at him, and Drake held up one hand as if to say, give me a minute.
“With my parents. I’m going crazy there and came back to look at apartments today. Is this neighborhood prone to fires? If so, I’d better look elsewhere.”
“No! I mean, no, it’s plenty safe.”
She smiled and something inside him melted. The chief yelled at him again and started walking over.
“Listen, before I go, can you give me your number? I’d like to ask you out sometime.” He started to back away.
“Sure.” She grinned and rattled off her cell phone number.
The chief yelled out, “Hey, Cameron!”
“Wait! Is Cameron your first or last name?” Bliss asked.
“Last. My first name’s Drake.” He glanced in the chief’s direction. “Uh, I’d better run.”
Benjamin called after the chief. “Give him a minute, boss. That’s the girl he’s been looking for.”
The chief threw his hands in the air. “Seriously? Everything is supposed to stop so Drake can talk to a pretty girl.”
“Better than having him talk to your daughter, chief,” Mike yelled out.
The chief snorted. “As if I’d let that happen.” Then he focused on Drake and said, “Get her number and come on.”