Chapter 2

Kwame had been devious. It had surprised Wheeler, naturally, as Kwame had always been the embodiment of upright behavior ever since they'd met. But for Wheeler's sake, he had told Gi he wanted to organize an outing to Coney Island, to show Linka around and give her an opportunity to meet more of their friends. What he did not tell the Asian girl was that no one aside from him and Wheeler would ever show up. He had even staged a few calls in front of the girls with cancellations from the rest of the group, and Wheeler had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

The American remembered everything about that Sunday afternoon. It was clear in his mind like polished pleasant sunlight and the calm ocean waters glittering, how his heart sped up when he took in the sight of Linka again, and his persistent need to be close to her. He even remembered what she was wearing, jeans and a pretty sleeveless blouse that reflected her eye color. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was sporting dangling earrings and lip gloss. Perfection, he'd thought, meeting her eyes. She'd seemed more relaxed than the evening of the party, and he'd used all the time he had trying to walk beside her and engage her in conversation. He could not have put any moves on her in that group setting, but he probably would not have tried, anyway, had they been alone. Linka really did like to keep to herself, she was not rambunctious or overly chatty, coming off as downright timid in some instances. Her collected aura had been a revelation to Wheeler, for he'd never met someone with such graceful ways before.

The day had been over too quickly and by the time they had left, Wheeler was not anywhere near his goals. Oh, the frustration! He did not have Linka's number and he still had no way to connect with her if not through Gi. They had parted without promising to see each other again, like acquaintances.

Kwame had teased him on the way home. Wheeler was easily surpassing the speed limit (they were close to travelling at the speed of his frantic thoughts) as he listened to his friend's jabs. According to Kwame, he had totally fallen for Linka and, what was worse, she hadn't even seemed to notice! A conundrum, indeed! Wheeler knew he just needed some quiet time alone with her, without the others interrupting and distracting what should be. He could not accept that he'd had no effect on Linka whatsoever! He knew he was charming, he'd had ample proof to believe that. It was commonplace for girls to melt around him, struck by his confidence and good looks.

He had tried to read Linka's glance during their outing, but his brain had become so jumbled whenever their eyes met that he had not been able to decipher anything at all. His thoughts were pointing every which way, confusing all the cardinal points. He had never felt so drawn to anything else before; it was a freakishly strong phenomenon. It reminded him of the power of thunderstorms unleashed in the unsuspecting summer skies.


A week following the trip to Coney Island, Wheeler was leaving his uncle Lou's house in the late afternoon. At least a couple of times a month they would meet to have lunch, talk about the fire station, work and life in general. Wheeler enjoyed these get-togethers, and looked forward to them immensely. It was not always pleasant coming home to an empty apartment, after all, and even though he had plenty of friends, he still felt lonely more days than not. He missed that sense of family, of belonging, that he'd never really had growing up. He carried that vacant vortex inside like a hidden war wound, hiding it from view.

Wheeler was sitting in his truck, playing with his phone, when he impulsively decided to look up Linka's place of work. He bit his lips as he waited for the results to appear. He felt like a concoction of crazy mixed with a touch of excitement, but he couldn't stop his actions. The Russian girl was rooted inside him now, setting up camp comfortably in the chambers of his heart. There was an address listed for the local branch, and it was only five blocks away from where he was parked. He decided it was fate and moved right along.

Wheeler walked around for a while, his eyes seldom leaving the revolving doors of the red-bricked building for fear he would miss her. About fifteen minutes later, Linka emerged, shining as gorgeously as the sun. She could have lit up the graying skyline, looking professional and beautiful in a white dress shirt and a black, above the knee skirt. Wheeler, not without effort, tore his eyes away from her shapely legs just in time to mix in with the crowds of people flowing out of the adjacent buildings, then casually bumped into her.

"Linka, hey!"

"Wheeler!"

Her tone was surprised, but she was smiling, and he took it as a good sign. If possible, she was even more alluring when her eyes were lit up with the light of her smile.

"Is this where you work?" he casually asked, thumbing the building.

Linka nodded, examining his eyes a little. "What are you doing here?"

Her tone was not unfriendly, but it was not filled with nonchalance, either. It only made him more eager to get past her defenses, for she kept guard over her emotions like a good soldier.

"I just had a visit with my uncle, he lives over on ninth street. I was going to get a coffee on the corner here. Would you… uhm, like to join me? If you're not rushing off anywhere, that is."

Linka seemed to consider him thoughtfully, then her countenance relaxed and she adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder.

"Coffee would be great right now, da."

Wheeler grinned, feeling as if he'd just won the playoffs. He was victory-dancing in his mind. Yes! Finally, some time alone with the girl that had worn out his brain for weeks on end!

Once inside the café, they chose a table by the window and he walked up to put in their order. Her smile for him was sincere when he placed a cup in front of her, black, no cream, like she'd asked.

"Today is your day off?" asked Linka, placing both hands around the cup as if to warm them. A sharp wind was picking up outside, rusting the streets to life.

"First of two," nodded Wheeler, leaning back a little to study her face to his liking. He wanted to imprint in his brain as many details as possible, as silly as it may have been. He could not decide what was more beautiful about her, those eyes or that rosy mouth, her porcelain skin or her fair hair. His heart was on a underwater rollercoaster as he pondered this over.

They talked easily and Wheeler was pleased that she seemed relaxed enough to open up a little more to him. He found out about her family in Russia, her work environment and the adventures she'd had with Gi so far. She, in turn, was curious about his job as most people were, and he answered her queries with enthusiasm, trying to make her laugh with his anecdotes and succeeding.

The sky had turned almost black by the time Linka announced she had to leave. Wheeler offered her a ride home but she shook her head no, and the faint blush on her cheeks told him he shouldn't push it. So he walked her to the top of the subway stairs where she was preparing to descend, then gently took her arm to stop her movements.

Her eyes studied him silently and he prayed for eloquent words to grace his mouth.

"Linka… listen… okay, I realize there is no subtle way to ask you this, but… can I have your number? I mean, is that… would that be okay?"

Damn, not at all like he'd prepared in his mind, but his capacity to think was in slow decline with the scent of her shampoo so enticingly close. He'd never sounded more insecure in his life, God, what was wrong with him?

Wheeler was scanning her eyes, watching as she tore her glance from his. He didn't want to scare her off, and the fear of her rejection was paralyzing him. No other reply could ever be as important to him as this. But she wasn't answering him now and her face didn't seem so serene as it had before.

Wheeler bent his head to seek out her eyes and she blinked up at him, moving her head a little.

"I'll use it wisely, I promise," he teased with a small smile, crossing his heart for emphasis. She mirrored his smile (victory!) before biting her lower lip. Seeming torn, she assessed him a moment longer before slightly nodding.

"Give me your phone," was her demand as she held out her hand. Wheeler offered it to her and watched her dial on the screen. Her eyes met his while her own phone started ringing from inside her purse. She was calling herself. The sound died midway as she hung up the call. Very clever, for she could screen the call now if she so desired, thought Wheeler, impressed.

Linka handed him his phone, seeming now ready to leave.

"Thank you for the coffee," she nodded a bit, before starting her walk down the stairs and disappearing from sight.

Wheeler stood motionless, gripping the handrail, dumbfounded and pleased and impatient all at the same time. The incredible ease with which Linka seemed to rock his entire existence was shocking, to say the least, but he felt no fear. Just happiness in its purest state.