The sergeant went on, filling him in on the minor stuff he would’ve figured out on his own such as where the break room was and the list of added duties he’d be required to do on top of the usual ones, now that he’d been promoted to Gunnery Sergeant. He also told Brandon his box with all his office belongings would be delivered to him later. Brandon listened intently and respectfully, annoyed that his thoughts had gone back to the princess from the airport. He’d been certain that she was Hispanic. Brady? Then he remembered that she’d referred to her grandmother as abuelita. The last name could mean only one thing—she was married.
Chapter Five
Regina
Now
Week two of this boring ass assignment hadn’t gotten any better. Regina missed the lavish projects she’d gotten in New York already. This would never live up to the excitement of working on sky scrapers and one-of-a-kind buildings like the Ronnet Museum she’d worked on early last year. She’d taken this transfer only because of its location. Now she wondered if she’d made a mistake.
She thought working on the west coast and living on the beach would be an exciting change, the change she needed. But the job was turning out to be so boring. Of course, she’d been notorious her entire life for having the worst luck ever. Her family and friends had labeled her the female Charlie Brown. They thought it was funny. It never failed. If something could go wrong at the most inopportune time to any of them, no one had to guess which one of them it would be. It was never anything real bad, or maybe her family wouldn’t think it so funny, just frustrating, mistimed, or inconvenient things like always being the last to be served at a restaurant when in a group or the restaurant no longer serving the specific dessert she’d craved all the way there. On the airplane, she’d been stuck next to the chattiest person on the planet when all she’d wanted to do was sleep.
Taking a deep breath, Regina folded her arms in front of her as she went and stood by the window of her makeshift office. Her sister had been right. There were a ton of soldiers here, which meant major potential for meeting someone. But as usual, as her rotten luck would have it, she was stuck working on the side of the base where it was mostly basic training with brand new, way-too-young troops who seemed terrified of doing anything inappropriate that might get them in trouble like flirt or even talk to a civilian—that and a bunch of hardnosed drill instructors and their even harder superiors. So far, the only one who had caught her eye seemed to be the hardest of them all, the same one she caught staring at her at the airport in Washington D.C. He’d blown her smile off then and then again when she’d run into him a few days ago.
Because they were on the same flight to San Diego and he’d been wearing fatigues, she figured since she’d be working on the base there was a small chance she might run into him again. But she never imagined it would be this soon and certainly not that they’d be working in the same building. At the airport, she’d thought she’d imagined the look of distaste she’d picked up from him—distaste for her. She’d chalked it up to him having a bad day or something. Their flight had been delayed over two hours. Even she’d been irritated by that. And certainly there could be no reason for him to dislike her. He didn’t even know her. But the other day, the way he’d looked at her was even worse. For whatever reason, the man found her repugnant. Of course, that made him all the more intriguing than when she’d first laid eyes on him at the airport.
Sighing, she walked away from the window and sat down in front of her desk. For all she knew, the guy was married. He was certainly good-looking enough. None of that mattered anyway. Her excitement about working on a base full of soldiers had all been an act, just as this entire last year had been. She pretended she was excited about meeting men and getting on with her life. Of course, her family would never know the truth. She’d never forgive herself if she were ever the cause of anything that might send either of her parents back into the hospital. Between her dad’s bad heart, and her mom’s high blood pressure, she didn’t dare tell them.
The day dragged on as the previous days had, and she finally made her way out of her office, down the elevator, and out to her car. Hitting the ignition button with one hand, she checked her texts with the other then pulled off her name badge. The radio turned on along with the car. She was so engrossed in reading a text from her sister it took a few seconds for the song playing to register, but when it did, she froze.
Would you know my name, if I saw you in heaven?
Immediately choked up, she hit the off switch, but it was too late. She felt herself drowning fast in that overwhelming grief and despair she thought she’d made progress dealing with. Choking back the tears because she was not about to fall apart right there or go into hysterics as she knew she could very easily do, she took a deep breath, fighting the anguish that bathed her so quickly and mercilessly.
She tried to think of something, anything she could channel her thoughts into instead. Her therapist had instructed her to do just that at times like this when she thought she might lose it. So she breathed in deeply and began channeling. She thought of her work, the designs she’d presented to her subordinates today, but it wasn’t working, so she thought of her plans for that evening. She’d be going to the gym later, and then it hit her. Her Fitbit, the pedometer she used around her wrist to count her steps, the battery had died today, and she left it hooked up to her computer, charging in her office.
Glad it seemed to be working because she was already grabbing her keychain and pushing the car start button off, she opened her door. Taking more deep breaths even as the tears continued to spill from her eyes, she could feel herself calming. It’d been months since the last time she’d broken down as she almost had today. She’d consider this progress. This was the first time she’d been able to fight it.