Prime

chapter 5

The next day. Nickola cleans off the counter and puts the dishes in the sink. She instructs Zara to go to her room and play. She dries her hands with the dish towel and heads out back to the shed. Sorting through the items she begins stacking boxes outside of the shed. A photo in an antique frame lies on top of a box. Picking it up she reminisces on the time. In the picture is Nickola, Wes, and a younger Zara surrounding an older woman lying in a hospital bed. It was a rare occasion to spend more than twenty four hours with Wes and not argue.

"Who's that?" Herring says from behind being careful not to startle her.

"My grandmother," Nickola says still looking at the photo. "Wes and I took a trip to see her. She had a stroke and the doctors didn't think she'd live much longer. I wanted her to meet Zara before she died."
"Did she get a chance to meet Zara?"
"Yeah. She did. She died three months later." Nickola puts the picture back on top of the box and moves it aside. "We can start loading these boxes in the dumpster," she says pointing to the stack beside the shed.

Herring grabs a few boxes and walks them to the dumpster. Nickola begins to clear out more things from the shed. Golf clubs, swords, zombie collectables and boxes of Dallas cowboys' memorabilia. Herring picks up a bow from the corner and looks it over.

"Wes liked to go hunting," she says.

"I take it he moved out?" he ask as they walk the last items to the dumpster.

"He...passed away six months ago," she says despondently.

"Oh," he says softly.

"At first it was hard for Zara to understand why she could no longer see daddy. But after awhile she understood he is never coming home again." She walks back to the house and Herring follows.

"Last thing is the couch," she says entering the house. She walks over to the fridge and grabs two bottles of water. "Something to drink?" she extends a bottle of water to him.

"Thank you," he says taking it and looking around. "You're very...organized." Inside the house is very neat and orderly. Everything has a place. Books on the bookshelf surrounded by small plants. Weave baskets that hold blankets. Hooks on the wall for coats, and even cubbies for shoes.

"I try to be," she unscrews the top of the water bottle and takes a sip. "So what made you move here? Are you still modeling?"

"Yeah. I'm not quite ready to give that up yet," he rubs his hand through his hair and takes a swallow of water. "I've been thinking its time I learn about my dad's business. I own twenty-five percent of the shares and eventually may be taking over someday."

"So you'll work at the firm and model at the same time?" she ask.

"Thankfully my dad is being very flexible. Aside from a few meetings here and there I can work from home. So I can take whichever modeling job I want and work on the investment portfolios in between."

"Good. I'd hate to see all of Greyson's hard work go to waste at the expense of Kellen taking over." They both smile.

"Herring what are you doing here?" Zara ask.

"I'm helping your mummy move some things," he says.

"Speaking of, let's get that thing out of here," she says looking at the couch. Zara grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and hurries back to her room.

They move the couch outside to the dumpster. "I really appreciate this Herring," she says slightly out of breath.

"No worries. I wanted to help," he says.

"I feel like I owe you."

He licks his lips and looking intensely into her eyes says, "You could let me take you to dinner."

Nickola's mouth drops open slightly and she lets out an awkward laugh. He smiles a little. "You're serious?" she says realizing it was not a joke. Her smile quickly fades.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he says stepping closer to her. The wind bringing a gust of his cologne to her nostrils.

"Be...cause...I'm forty one and you're," she trails off.

"Twenty- six in October. What does that have to do with having dinner?" he says quickly.

"Your my best friends stepson," her words unsteady. His sea green eyes silently persuasive. "I...uh...," she struggles for words. "I don't know Herring," she breaks eye contact.

"Nickola. It's just dinner," his words smooth.

Nickola looks to be in deep thought. Herrings phone rings. He looks at it and says, "think about it." He answers his phone as he turns and walks to his car. Nickola is left pondering the last few moments.

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Later at the grocery store. Nickola watches a couple at the checkout across from her as she puts the groceries on the conveyor belt. The guy softly strokes, in a circular motion, the back of a woman he appears to be much younger than. They laugh looking each other in the eyes as the clerk rings up their items. She begins to think of Herring. He looks at her that very same way. She pictured the way those green eyes peer into hers. She wondered what his hands would feel like stroking the small of her back.

"Your total is eighty-five dollars and twenty-six cents," the clerk says interrupting her thoughts. Nickola looks at the total on the screen. "Twenty-six," she huffs under her breath. She laughs at herself for entertaining the idea of Herring touching her in that way. She pays the clerk and Zara helps her put the bags into the shopping cart.

"Nickola," says a voice coming alongside her.

"Hey Miles," she says surprised.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," he says with Devaun trailing behind.

"It's a small world," she shrugs and smiles. They walk together outside.

"And who's this pretty young lady?" he says looking at Zara who's smiling shyly.

"This is my daughter Zara." Devaun and Zara exchange a glance.

"You didn't get much," she says eyeing the one bag in his hands.

"Just picked up a few snacks. We're going over to a friends house to watch the game tonight," he says. They stop at Nickola's car. Devaun walks back to his father's silver Dodge Durango which is opposite the parking stall to Nickola's and leans against the passenger side door. She opens the trunk. He searches her hand for a ring.

"Which team do you like?" she puts the groceries inside. Zara gets in the car.

"The patriots of course," he says confidently.

"Of course," she says closing the trunk. "I've always wanted to go to a football game, but haven't got around to it yet."

"Maybe I can get your number and change that," his voice suddenly sexy.

Nickola hesitates briefly, a smile slowly growing. "Okay," she says. Miles hands her his phone and she puts her number in.

"I'll take that for you," he says grabbing the shopping cart.

"Thanks," she returns his phone to him.