Page 20 of Keeping Zita

“It is, and not really. We took a trip to Disneyland when I was little, and I got to go up to the cockpit and sit in the pilot’s seat. I got my picture taken with him, and he gave me the little plastic wings pin they give to kids, and that was it. Seeing all those buttons and levers, and realizing the people who sat up there and flew the plane knew how to use them all, was fascinating to me.”

“And now here you are,” Zita said with a small smile. “Flying helicopters.”

“Yup.”

“I have one more question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you still have the pin you got that day?”

“Of course,” Sage said, looking over at her with a huge grin on his face. “It’s in a box under my bed with all the medals I’ve earned in my career.”

Zita had no idea if he was kidding or not, but figured he probably wasn’t. “Awesome.”

“Yeah. We’re almost there.”

Looking out the front windshield, Zita saw a building with extremely bright lights ahead and to the right, covering the entire parking area.

“Wow, you could land your chopper right there in the parking lot,” she joked.

But Sage didn’t even crack a smile. “Mandy was attacked in the lot one night, several months back, and since there were hardly any lights, Buck didn’t see it coming. After a large donation by a former SEAL we know, the owner put in the high-powered lights to try to ensure no one else gets attacked on his property again.”

Zita felt horrible that her joke was apparently in such poor taste. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. And yes, the lights are a little bit overkill, but no one complains. Not even the people living in the houses nearby. I think they’re probably relieved, because this neighborhood hasn’t been the best at times. But it’s slowly getting better.”

“She’s okay though? Mandy?” Sage had talked about the other woman a few times, and Zita still felt horrible that she’d made such an offensive offhand remark about someone he cared for.

“She’s good. Took a bit for her to recover, but she’s been amazingly resilient. She’s currently long-term subbing at a school on the naval base, but Buck told us the other day that there’s a full-time slot opening for a first-grade teacher at the same school next year that she’ll almost certainly get.”

“That’s great.”

“It is. She’s the kind of teacher I’d want for my kids. Caring, compassionate, and determined to make their school experience a good one.”

Sage parked his Jeep toward the back of the lot, under one of the bright lights. He turned to her before he opened his door. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Zita told him. And she was. The more she learned about his friends—and him—the more she wanted to know.

Sage nodded and reached for his door handle. Zita did the same, and they met at the front of the Jeep. She could hear music coming from the bar as the door opened and closed, with people entering and exiting. It seemed like a popular place, which was a good sign. In her experience, the more rundown a place looked from the outside, the better the food and atmosphere. And the fact that it was so busy also said a lot about it…all good things.

Even with her nerves, Zita was glad she’d agreed to come with Sage. Not only because she was getting to know him better, but because she loved learning about the soul of a town or city.

The more she saw of Norfolk, the more she liked. There was an interesting mix of military men and women, minorities, income levels. Zita had visited a lot of cities and towns thanks to her career, had seen the good, bad, and ugly, and she felt as if she was a good judge of a location’s character. And she got nothing but good vibes from the city on the coast of Virginia.

She shifted her purse around her body and smiled at Sage as he held the door open for her. Taking a deep breath, she walked inside, excited about the upcoming night and meeting Sage’s friends.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Obi-Wan was pleased at how things were going so far. He and Zita had talked nonstop on the way to Anchor Point, which was a good sign. He’d been on some dates where he’d had to do all the talking, or where the woman he was with wouldn’t shut up, blabbering on and on and trying too hard to give a good impression of herself.

Zita was down-to-earth and relaxed. She was interesting, and funny, and obviously had a good head on her shoulders. He already knew she was a hard worker, which he appreciated and admired. And he couldn’t deny that he was physically attracted to the woman.

He knew her hair would be beautiful if she ever let it out of its normal tight bun—and it was. The green shirt she wore complemented the auburn shade, and all he wanted to do was bury his hand in all that hair to see if it was as soft as it looked.

Thankfully, he was able to restrain himself, because that would be weird and probably send her running in the other direction.

They were clicking on a level he didn’t experience often when dating. When she’d taken what he’d said about the adrenaline rush he got from flying in extreme situations and compared it to her own experiences, his respect for her grew. No, the two situations couldn’t really be compared, but just as she probably couldn’t imagine what he experienced during his job, he couldn’t fathom the things she must see on a regular basis.