Chapter 2

“You’re smart.”

“How old are you?”

A tiny grin began. “I’m nineteen.”

Akira crushed the empty, paper coffee cup. She barked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

Akira grabbed the woman’s purse and searched for a wallet. She grabbed for it.

“Give that back, you have no right.”

“I’m really working for San Jose PD to entrap adults who lure innocent teens. Sit down and shut up.”

The woman miraculously believed her and obeyed. Her face went white. Finding a driver’s license, Akiraconfirmed the woman’s age at twenty-six. She didn’t look it. She spoke the woman’s name and birthdate, saying DOB, like she’d heard Sgt. Garatino do, into the button of her blouse. Gosh, was this woman stupid enough to believe she was a police informant?

“The supervisor said they’ll check out your background and get an arrest warrant for you. He said for you not to leave town.” Akira contained her need to laugh. It was a line from old movies. “Go home to your husband.”

She drove around for a while all over San Jose and even into the rural road up the east foothills to spy down on the lit-up valley. She parked at a lovers’ lookout but couldn’t stand being alone when everyone else around had a partner. She texted school-bud Jessica.

Hey, how u doing? UR period over?

The response came back. No. Still going thru hell. Thx. Can’t chat now. Sorry. Busy.

She texted Dusty, an old friend, but he didn’t answer. He was a cool guy she liked and was always accepting of her lesbian-ness.

She drove and found herself at work. Marshall’s car was there. She waltzed in. The duty clerk handled the normal flow of traffic. Marshall greeted Akira with a wave and wink. She got a frozen treat.

Marshall stood from the stool and grabbed his two arm canes. “Akira, bad enough I come here when off duty. Why are you here on a Saturday?”

“Date ended early.”

“Okay, since you’re here, let’s go in the office; something I want to talk to you about. We’ll consider you on the clock for it.” He walked slow but steady. It had to be hell to have your legs brokenfrom war.

She followed him, appreciating he gave her all the time he could to help her financially, hoping it didn’t cut too deep into profits. He had a family, too, but sometimes paid her for time she didn’t work.

Marshall closed and locked the door behind her. He sat in a stiff wooden chair and patted his lap. Akira held back. “Come on.” He patted his lap again. She sat on it, and he slowly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her head into his chest. “Tell me.”

She sighed. This was a job a parent should do, but with no relatives in the area, Marshall was the closest she had to an uncle. Or father.

“The girl was late to meet even though I texted her to be sure she’d be there. The pic she sent was old. She’s twenty-six and married. I even had a lucky carnation with me. Didn’t work.” A few tears leaked. He patted her back with one hand while cradling her head in the other. “I know you want to say something, Marshall.”

“My wife says I give out too much unsolicited advice.”

“But you’re usually right.” Feeling better with the love he emitted, she said, “I’m hereby soliciting your advice.”

“That was just another bump in the road. Keep looking but not too hard. A nice girl will come your way, maybe waltz into the store, pick you up, and carry you off to a better life.”

“That would be so cool.”

“It’s okay to feel bad at disappointments. It’s a form of mourning, which isn’t just for death. I mourned my legs a long time before accepting they’re hurt bad.”

She pecked his cheek and stood. “Proper grammar is badly.”

He smirked. “If you can correct grammar, you’re feeling better.”

She did. Her internal spark rekindled. “Thanks, Marshall. You always know what to do and say.”

He shoved off the desk with his muscled hands and arms, standing straight. “Remember we talked once about pick-up lines?” She nodded while straightening her cream-colored dress. “How about this? You see a girl you want to ask out, you do some basic chat and then say Do you every date girls. I think it’snot dorky and might work well.”

As an octopus pulling prey in, she tightened her arms around him. “You’re so good to me.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“Were there any work issues you wanted to cover?”

“Just did. I want my employees to be happy; makes better employees.”

“Don’t put this time on the books. You’re not going to pay to soothe my hurt feelings.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m the boss. I own this store.” He gave a fatherly smile, warming her.