Victor

by Brenda Rothert

  I laugh at that. “I’m not wanting to get with anyone.”

  “That’s because you never have. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “From what you’ve told me, I’m okay missing it.”

  “Girl, no. Most men are assholes, but when you find one who isn’t…it’s magic.”

  “I’m happy with my life as it is.”

  “You don’t ever want a guy to hold your hand? Or kiss you? Or text just to say he can’t stop thinking about you?”

  I shrug and look down. Does all that sound nice? Sure. But I’m not a woman men can’t stop thinking about. I’m pretty sure they never even start.

  “Maybe someday,” I say wistfully.

  The break room door opens and Bruce sticks his head inside the room. “Gonzales, have we lengthened our breaks from fifteen minutes to an hour?”

  Rolling her eyes, Ari gets up. “This job sucks.”

  “Want to go to that little diner after our shift and eat?”

  “I can’t, I’m broke.”

  “My treat. I want to do something to thank you for doing my hair and makeup.”

  She waves a hand. “That’s what friends do.”

  “Friends also buy each other cheese fries with extra bacon.”

  “Oooh, I love those fries.”

  “Great, it’s a date then.” I stand up, too.

  “Your break’s not over yet,” Ari says.

  “Might as well go back; I’ve got nothing else to do.”

  When we get back to our concession area for this shift, Ari goes to an empty register and I take mine back from Dwayne. We fill beer order after beer order, our cash drawers nearly overflowing by the time the concert is almost over.

  “Should be just the encore after this,” Ari says to me as we wipe down equipment.

  There’s hardly anyone left in line, and the two cashiers that are still working are more than enough. Ari and I wanted to get a jump on cleanup before closing so we can get out of here as soon as possible tonight.

  “Hey, Lindy,” Dwayne calls out, “someone’s asking for you.”

  For me? That’s weird. I turn to look and there’s a tall, lanky guy, wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. He has short brown hair and is standing at the end of the counter where Dwayne pointed. I don’t recognize him, and as I walk over, I hope I’m not going to embarrass myself by not knowing someone I’m supposed to know.

  The guy saves me from not knowing his name when he clears his throat and says, “Hi, I’m uh…Ryan.”

  “Hi. I’m Lindy, even though my name tag says Belinda. Can I help you with something?”

  Since I’m the senior cashier, the others often refer customers to me when someone asks for a manager and Bruce isn’t around. But Ryan’s not here to complain.

  “I went through your line earlier, and I was just wondering if you’d maybe like to go out sometime,” he says.

  I stare at him a little too long, too surprised to even respond. “I…you want to go out with me?”

  He smiles. “Yeah. I mean, if you’re not seeing anyone.”

  “I’m not,” I say quickly.

  “Great.” He passes me a piece of paper. “So that’s my number. Give me a call if you want.”

  I just look at the folded slip of paper in my hand, dumbfounded.

  “She will!” Ari says from beside me. “Sorry, she’s just tired right now, but she’d love to go out with you. I’m her best friend.”

  “Oh.” Ryan looks from her to me.

  “Yeah,” I finally manage. “I mean, yes. I’ll call you.”

  He has a nice smile. “Great. I hope to hear from you soon.”

  “Okay.”

  Awkward. It’s my trademark. I feel like a fool as I wave at Ryan. He waves back, then walks away.

  Ari grabs my arm excitedly. “He’s cute, Lindy. You have a date! Right after we were talking about all this. It was meant to be.”

  “I don’t have a date yet,” I clarify, putting the paper in my pocket.

  “Shut up! All you have to do is call him. And you are so calling him, even if I have to dial the phone and make you do it.”

  “You don’t even know anything about him. Neither do I.”

  Ari scowls at me. “That’s what the date is for, Lindy. You’re going out with him to get to know him.”

  “Oh, really?” I give her an amused look.

  “Don’t you want to?”

  I think about Ryan’s shy smile and the confident way he just asked me out. I could never do that. I admire it.

  “I think I do,” I admit. “I mean, why not?”

  Ari’s got me thinking about having my hand held now, and more. She’s right. There’s a lot more that a relationship can offer and I’m missing all of it.

  Maybe my date with Ryan will be awful. But maybe not. It’s worth finding out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Victor

  Jonah looks like he’s about to collapse. I wish there was something I could do for him, but there’s not. He had to stand there at Lily’s visitation and greet the hundreds of people who came through the line offering their condolences. Lily’s parents and sister are there, too, but Jonah was her husband. He’s the one holding it all together, his expression stoic. He’s got bags under his eyes and lines on his face that weren’t there before. I can’t imagine what the past several days have been like for him.

  Lindy stood next to me for hours at the visitation, talking to players from other teams and their wives, celebrities connected to the team and the many people, along with their families, from the front office and team ownership that came today.

  She lost it the moment she saw Jonah, silent tears streaming down her face. I slid my hand into hers and she squeezed mine like I was her lifeline, so I never let go. Holding hands led to quite a few looks and questions, most of which have left me so pissed off I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. The funeral service is over, but I’m not leaving until Jonah does. He’s having a private burial for his wife, but still thanking all the people who came today.

  Lindy and I are standing alone, talking quietly about the service, when we’re interrupted.

  “I’m sorry, who are you?” Angelica Ford asks Lindy with a sneer, looking her up and down.

  “I’m Lindy,” she says, flushing.

  “Lindy who? Are you related to Victor or something?”

  Angelica’s the niece of the Chicago Blaze’s majority owner, and she’s an entitled brat who’s slept with several players on the team. Not me, though. I couldn’t get a hard-on for that bitch if someone put a gun to my head. My teammate, Dante, said he told her that his kink is to fuck women with his hand covering their mouths just so he wouldn’t have to hear her whiny voice.

  “No,” Lindy gives me a wide-eyed look.

  “Angelica’s related to one of our team owners,” I say. “She’s used to meeting people and getting into places based entirely on that.”

  “Fuck you,” Angelica says smoothly. “I went to Stanford.”

  “Entirely on your academic merits, I’m sure.” I roll my eyes.

  She shrugs. “I was born rich. So what?” She looks Lindy up and down again, studying her straight black pants and dark gray blouse. Then she breaks into an amused grin. “Oh my God. This is the concessions girl, isn’t it? I heard you were banging someone from Concessions, but I didn’t believe—”

  I cut her off. “Christ, you’re miserable. Go find someone else’s day to ruin.”

  Angelica’s lips part with surprise. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Victor. Instead of focusing on things outside the rink, maybe you should focus on hockey if you want to keep your job.”

  Lindy tightens her hold on my hand, silently supporting me.

  “I was serious,” I tell Angelica, waving my hand. “Go away. You don’t even belong here.”

  She narrows her eyes. “And why not? My uncle is the team owner.”

  Mia joins us then, saying, “I think Angelica just got confused. There�
�s a wet t-shirt contest nearby she was planning to enter.” She gives Angelica a sympathetic smile. “It was an accident walking in here right? I mean, how embarrassing, to wear that to a funeral.”

  Lindy bursts out laughing as Angelica looks down at her very tight, low-cut black dress. Then Lindy covers her mouth, looking mortified to have laughed at a funeral. I squeeze her hand reassuringly. Lily would’ve approved.

  “You guys are dicks,” Angelica says with a huff, walking away.

  Mia rolls her eyes. “Hey, you guys want to come to Lucky’s with us?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Actually, I can’t,” Lindy says. “I wish I could, though.”

  “Oh, you’ve got plans?” I ask her.

  She nods silently. It’s unusual for her not to share what her plans are.

  “That’s okay, but we’ll miss you, Lindy,” Mia says. “Vic, come by if you want to, okay?”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “What are you doing tonight?” I ask Lindy.

  “Oh, it’s not a big deal, just…a date.”

  A date? I feel…blindsided, like where the hell did this guy come from and why haven’t I heard anything about him? A sudden surge of protectiveness overcomes me, but I resist the urge to question her about him.

  People start leaving out the front doors then, and I look around and see that Jonah is leaving with Lily’s family. Lindy and I are following the crowd out and she lets go of my hand.

  “Sorry I’m so sweaty,” she says with a small smile, looking up at me.

  “I’m sweatier than you are, so don’t worry about it.”

  As soon as we get outside, the late October wind starts whipping at our faces. I take off my black wool coat and drape it over Lindy’s shoulders, but she looks down at the ground, back up at me and then laughs.

  “I’m so short it almost touches the ground.”

  “It’s okay, it’s cold out here.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Make sure you wear a coat tonight.”

  She nods. “I usually do in this weather.”

  “Well, you’re not wearing one today. And your date may not be enough of a gentleman to give you his.” I can’t keep the jealous edge from my tone.

  “I don’t have any coats that I can wear to a funeral.”

  I look down at her, a little confused by her statement. “You don’t need to worry about that. Just wear a coat; it doesn’t matter what it looks like.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You have a coat that probably cost more than I make in a month.”

  “If I’d known you needed a coat, I’d have been glad to buy you one.”

  Lindy laughs again. “Victor, I’d never ask you to do that.”

  “I know.”

  We arrive at my car, and Lindy takes off my coat and passes it back to me.

  “I can’t believe how heavy it is,” she says.

  As she gets in the car, I’m thinking about how much I’d enjoy buying her a nice coat. Something warm and tailored for her size. Chicago winters are brutal, and I know she walks to the El Train. Bet that guy she’s going out with tonight won’t give her his coat, and now I don’t know if she even owns a warm one.

  I get into the car and look over at her. “So who’s this guy you’re going out with tonight?”

  She waves a hand as I start the car and turn on the seat warmers. “It’s not a big deal. His name’s Ryan, and he asked me out when I was working during a concert over the weekend. We’ve been texting.”

  I look over my shoulder to check traffic before pulling my car out. “So he’s just a random guy? You don’t even know him?”

  “Well, I don’t know him well or anything…”

  I cringe. “Lindy, he could be an ax murderer.”

  She laughs. “You sound like me.”

  “No, I don’t.” I give her a pointed look. “Because you’re going out with him, which you wouldn’t do if you were thinking like me.”

  “But what if he’s not an ax murderer? He seems really nice.”

  “Ted Bundy seemed nice. Look how that turned out.”

  She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Yeah, but look how many guys aren’t Ted Bundy.”

  “You can’t be too careful.”

  I grip the steering wheel harder, frustrated. This hit me out of left field. Lindy’s so sweet and fun to be around, and with her beautiful smile and eyes, I’m not surprised some random asshole asked her out while she was working. But why did she accept?

  “I’ll be texting Ari where we’re going,” Lindy assures me. “She’ll definitely murder this guy back if he hacks me into pieces.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not a joke, Lindy. Women get raped, robbed and assaulted every day.”

  “I know that,” she says in a sober tone. “I’ll be careful.”

  “How can you be careful when you don’t know who this guy is?”

  “How does anyone know who anyone is until they give them a chance? Haven’t you ever asked out a woman you didn’t know well?”

  I shake my head. “That’s completely different.”

  “How?”

  “Because those women wouldn’t have been able to stab me and dump my body in a dark alley.”

  “I think you’re severely underestimating some women,” she says with a small laugh. “But don’t worry, I’m bringing my pepper spray.”

  My blood pressure has completely skyrocketed. I’m picturing sweet Lindy out with some jackass who has his hands all over her. Who drives her back to his place and pressures her into sex. It makes me want to punch my fist through the fucking windshield.

  “Where’s this guy taking you?” I ask, trying to at least appear calm and collected.

  “He didn’t say.”

  “He didn’t say?” I give her an incredulous look. “What kind of a douchebag doesn’t say where he’s taking a girl?”

  “He said drinks and dinner. We’re meeting up at a bar on the North Side.”

  “What a douche.” I shake my head, disgusted. “He’s too pussy to pick you up and meet your dad?”

  Lindy laughs. “It’s not meeting my dad time already, is it? I don’t know; I’ve never done this before.”

  “Done what before?”

  There’s a beat of silence before she says, “Dated.”

  “You’ve never had a serious relationship before?” I look over and see that Lindy’s face is the same pink shade of cotton candy.

  “I’ve never even had…a date before,” she says softly. “So I said yes to Ryan because beggars can’t be choosers, you know?” She smiles, trying to lighten the tense conversation with some humor.

  “Oh, Lindy.” I sigh, my anger fading. “You are not a beggar. Please don’t say that.”

  “I just mean…no one’s ever beaten down my door? I’ve always told myself I didn’t care, and that I didn’t want or need a relationship, but being noticed by someone…it was nice.”

  We’re getting closer to Lindy’s house, and I slow down, not wanting our conversation to end.

  “Look, I get that,” I say. “But there’s no way guys have never noticed you, Lindy. You’re amazing. I just don’t want you getting taken advantage of.”

  “I won’t.”

  I’m about to crush my steering wheel from gripping it so hard. I’ve seen how men work. Hell, I am one. And Lindy’s way more than a piece of ass.

  “Be careful,” I say as my GPS announces our arrival at her house. “When you text Ari, text me, too. Only go to public places with him. Do not go back to his place.”

  She smiles as I park in front of her simple white bungalow. “Thanks for caring. I really do appreciate it.”

  “Promise me you won’t go back to his place.”

  “I promise.”

  “Let Ryan know I’ll slapshot his balls into next week if he tries anything.”

  Lindy reaches for the passenger door handle, still grinning. “Have fun at Lucky’s. I’ll text you later.”

&n
bsp; She gets out and walks up the cracked sidewalk that splits the tiny front yard in half and leads up to the porch, waving at me once.

  It’s all I can do not to jump out of the car and yell more advice her way. Don’t take a drink from anyone but a bartender! Don’t get into that guy’s car with him! And for fuck’s sake, don’t go out with him again!

  I go back and forth between thinking about her date tonight and how much I need a drink while I drive to Lucky’s. Fuck. I’m about to come unglued.

  Am I genuinely concerned for Lindy’s well-being? Yes. But is my concern mostly fueled by jealousy? I’d feel like an asshole admitting to anyone but myself that, yes, it is. And that sends me over left field and out of the park even more so than finding out about her date.

  I drain my glass and set it on the table, looking around the bar.

  “Where the fuck’s the waitress? I need a refill.”

  “You need a big glass of Chill the Fuck Out,” Anton says, shaking his head. “You’ve had at least a dozen beers already.”

  “So what? Not everyone’s a choirboy like you,” I say even though I’m pretty sure I haven’t had that many…I think.

  “Yeah, but not drinking has been working pretty well for you lately, so what’s this all about?”

  My phone lights up and I grab it off the table to check it. It’s just an ESPN app notification. I set the phone back down.

  “Guess I’m just thirsty,” I say, shrugging.

  “It was a shitty day. I had a beer myself when I got here.”

  Anton and I are crammed in around a big table at the loud sports bar. Between all the regular customers and people who came here for the get-together after Lily’s funeral, Lucky’s is packed.

  My phone lights up again, and I quickly reach for it.

  Lindy: We just left the restaurant. Going to a bar called Hannigan’s for a drink before I go home.

  Me: Another drink??? How many did you have at dinner?

  Lindy: I had water at dinner.

  I pout at my phone screen while I type out a reply.

  Me: Text me when you leave the bar. I can come get you if you need me to.

  After setting my phone down on the table again, I scrub my hands down my face. It’s been a long fucking day. I just want to fall face first into bed and sleep for the next twelve hours. But I can’t do that until I know Lindy’s home safe.