Midnight Oil: Plaything #5

by Oliver, Tess

  I placed the duffle in the trunk. By the time I shut it, she was already climbing into the driver's seat for a quick getaway. I grabbed the door to stop it from closing. It seemed to take all her will, but she finally lifted her face to peer up at me.

  "Suzy, once you feel like your head is clear and you know what you want, I hope you'll come back to me."

  She blinked away new tears and nodded as she pulled the door shut. I stood on the driveway, like a damn fool, watching, waiting and hoping she'd turn her shitty little car around. But she drove off, around the corner and out of sight. And out of my life.

  Nineteen

  Suzy

  “Suzy," Gene, the assistant manager called over the radio at my station. "Time for your break."

  Tonight was one of those nights where I couldn't wait to step away from the dining area. A party of twenty hyped up, drunken frat boys had landed in my section, the blue section for the night. It was always the luck of the draw, which server ended up with the most boisterous and rowdy crowd. Unfortunately, tonight I was the one with the short straw.

  Down below, Peter, the jousting announcer, tooted his bugle and called out that the Red Knight had entered the arena. I'd learned a week after walking out on Quinn that he was an impossibly hard man to forget. The fact that we worked at the same place definitely didn't help matters. As hard as I tried not to, my gaze swept down to the jousting arena as the crowd in the red section cheered and whistled for their hero. He was still holding his helmet under his arm as he trotted Archer to the center of the field. His long hair was drawn back, away from his face. I could see his profile perfectly. I'd already memorized every line of it and seeing it made my throat ache.

  Before I managed to pull my gaze away, he turned his face in the direction of my table section. Our gazes locked like magnets until I forced mine away. As I hurried to the door that would take me to the break room, one of the fraternity members, a thick necked idiot who had been handsy and rude all night, called to see where I was going.

  "Hey, wench, where are you going? We need more ale."

  I ignored him and rushed out the door to the break room. I had ten minutes of quiet and solitude which would hopefully give me enough time to recuperate from the last few seconds where Quinn and I locked gazes. We had both been expertly avoiding each other, not too big a challenge considering he spent most of his time on the side with the horses and theater team and I spent mine in the kitchen and dining areas.

  I'd left his house that night, chastising myself for immediately falling head over heels for the guy when I knew he was a player. I blamed it on my vulnerable state of emotion, my breakup with Tate and losing my place to live. I was mostly sore about the last part. In fact, I'd hardly given Tate a second thought since I walked out on him. I was relieved to have him out of my life. But giving up my independence and moving right in with Quinn had been a big mistake. I was immediately dependent on another man, albeit a much better man than the first. Everything had moved with ridiculous lightning speed, and when the two women showed up, it was like a dose of reality. I asked myself what the hell I was doing moving right in with the guy. I'd cut off his busy social life and I'd cut off my own independence all with one stupid decision.

  I checked my phone for the first time since my shift had started. There were two texts from my mom, one to remind me to lock the back door when I came in and the other to let me know she had washed the sheets on my bed. Mom had resisted learning to text for a long time but now that she used it, she found the most comically inane things to text about. But she had been there for me the night I came home from Quinn's. I spent a good hour sobbing into my pillow so she a baked my favorite lemon cupcakes. My mom always knew how to make things better with butter and sugar.

  Brenda, one of the other servers, came in looking about as worn out as I felt. "Hey, Suzy," she said with low energy as she tromped to the employee refrigerator and pulled out a yogurt. Brenda had amazing curly blonde hair that she occasionally streaked with color. Tonight it was a wide swath of pink at the front. She had pulled the pink strand back and twisted it in with her gold hair.

  She pulled out a chair and plopped down. "I've got the most irritating family sitting in my section tonight. 'Get me some more barbecue sauce please. Can I have another soda? This meat is too cold'," she said in a squeaky, annoying voice.

  "I'll trade you the annoying family for my table of rude frat boys."

  "Ugh, no thanks. They are usually the worst." She peeled open her yogurt. "Did you hear the terrible news?"

  I sat up a little straighter. "No, please don't tell me they're cutting hours again."

  Brenda looked up from her yogurt. "What? No, that wasn't the terrible news." She sat forward. "Are they cutting hours again?"

  "Not that I know of, I just thought that might be your terrible news." I glanced at my phone. My break was almost over.

  Brenda relaxed back with her lime yogurt. "No, that's not the news. Everyone is heartbroken. Quinn turned in his resignation." She shrugged. "Not sure why but he's probably going to work for that rich brother of his."

  I blinked at her, trying to sort out my own feelings. They were pretty easy to sort. I was feeling despair. I would never see him again. "Is this certain or just a rumor?" I tried not to show how devastated I was by the news, but apparently, I wasn't doing a great job of masking my emotion.

  "Jeez, are you all right?" Brenda asked. "You look kind of pale. Of all people, I didn't think you'd care one way or the other since you were one of the few women in the place he didn't date at one point or another. Although, I guess I saw you two talking occasionally."

  "Yes, we were friends," I said weakly. I stood up from the chair but my legs were like jelly. Quinn was leaving. I'd never see him again. The weight of that reality sat on my chest like a lead ball as I willed my feet forward and headed back to my station.

  The jousts were in full force down below the dining arena. It could just have been my dark mood but the noise echoing through the massive room seemed extra thunderous. The fraternity table had taken their enthusiasm and noise level up a few good notches as well. The one whose groping hands I'd had to avoid all evening spotted me the second I stepped back through the door.

  "Hey, there's the hot serving wench," he yelled loud enough that I could hear him over the booming din of the crowd. "We need another bottle of ketchup." To prove his point, the jerk lifted the bottle and squeezed it in his meaty fist. Ketchup sprayed everywhere.

  Cursing under my breath, I grabbed a new bottle of ketchup from my station. I couldn't stop myself from glancing down at the action below as I walked across the third platform where the fraternity was sitting. Quinn's helmet was on but he was standing off to the side with his horse waiting for his turn at the joust. I was relieved that his face was hidden by the helmet.

  I smacked the ketchup down on the table and had to lean out of the way of the guy's grabby hand. I nearly pitched myself down the steps to the second level in my frantic effort to avoid him. One more time and I was going to call the assistant manager over to ask them to behave or leave. Unfortunately, because the diners tended to get pretty fired up with drink and competition, the management had set the bar pretty high on behavior that warranted removal from the premises. But grabbing the server was definitely on the list.

  "Can we get some more root beer?" a sweet young girl asked at the table on the first level. They had the front row seats, the best in the house, as long as you didn't mind the occasional clump of arena sand getting tossed onto your turkey leg.

  "Yes, of course." I collected up their empty root beer pitcher and headed across the platform to my drink station. As I passed a table that seemed to be a women's night out, I heard one of the women comment that she wished they'd sat in the red section because the knight was so hot. I had to agree with her there, smart lady.

  My eyes flitted down below. Quinn's joust was about to start. He'd told me more than once that he really enjoyed his job, that he looked forward to
riding and jousting. Was he leaving to work for his brother? The money would be far better, but I couldn't imagine him working in an office dressed in a suit and tie.

  I filled the pitcher of root beer and carried it back to the table on the first level. I poured it in glasses and placed the pitcher on the table. From above, the thick necked creep was once again yelling for my attention. I wondered if he had any idea that there was an actual medieval show going on down below.

  "Server, could you bring us another pitcher of ale? And hurry up would ya?"

  The worst part of all, obnoxious customers were always extra cheap with the tip, so I was going to endure his rude behavior without any compensation at the end.

  A raucous cheer went up in the red section as the announcer introduced the daring, fearless Red Knight.

  I returned to my drink station and picked up a pitcher of ale. "Miss, can we get another basket of bread," a polite man asked as I passed by with the beer.

  "Yes, right away." I scurried across toward the frat table. I planned to just plunk the pitcher down and hurry away but the jerk picked up his glass.

  His big forehead shaded his deep set eyes as he grinned smugly. "Pour it in my glass." He leaned to the side to make a point of checking out my legs. The gesture nearly made him fall out of his chair. I was sorely disappointed that he managed to stay upright.

  I took his greasy glass and poured the beer, then set it down hard in front of him. I gave him a forced smile. As I spun around to get the basket of bread for my other customer, the guy's cold, sweaty hand shot up under my dress. I shrieked and jumped away from his groping hand. My right foot slipped off the step and twisted painfully. I shrieked as I tumbled down the three steps landing sharply on both knees. My right foot throbbed with unbearable pain. I was so deep in my cloud of shock and pain, it took me a second to notice that a stunned silence was making its way around the arena. It seemed everyone in the whole damn place had seen my embarrassing fall.

  The deafening silence was broken by a simultaneous gasp that whooshed through the vast dining hall like a gust of wind. I lifted my face. Several of my customers were working their way over to help me but they stopped when something in the arena caught their eye. I was behind the small retaining wall that separated level one of the dining tables from the show arena, but everyone seemed to be focused on something below.

  Then a flash of red was followed by heavy black boots landing on the first level of my section. Quinn had removed his helmet. He marched toward me with such a look of concern, a sob bubbled from my lips. I sat back on the step behind me and gently brought my right foot forward. My ankle was already swelling up like a ball.

  Every pair of eyes in the building was on the fallen server with the swollen ankle and the knight who had hoisted himself over the barrier to come to her rescue. It would have been wonderfully romantic if it hadn't been so darn embarrassing.

  Quinn stooped in front of me, not an easy task in his armor. "Are you all right, Suzy Q?" He grazed his gloved hand over my ankle. "Shit, that doesn't look good. Just a second. I need to take care of something." He straightened. The people sitting in the nearby tables craned their necks and stared up at him in awe.

  "Gosh, he's even better looking up close," I heard one customer mutter from somewhere in the haze of faces. "Bigger too," someone said.

  Quinn tromped past in his big boots. I looked back over my shoulder as he reached the fraternity's table. The creep who had groped me looked close to choking on his own vomit as the Red Knight approached the table.

  "Quinn, no it's all right." My voice trembled from the pain.

  Quinn lowered his face and said something quietly to the guy. The jerk leaned back so far to get away from Quinn's menacing glare, he fell backward. The crowd roared with laughter.

  "What's happening here?" The assistant manager was breathing hard as if he had run the entire circumference of the arena. His eyes shot to my swollen ankle. "Oh wow, Suzy, we need to get you to a doctor."

  The frat boy was clumsily climbing back on his chair.

  Quinn turned toward Gene. "This guy grabbed Suzy and made her fall. It's your call." His big boots carried him back down the three steps. He leaned over. I circled my arm around his shoulder and he lifted me off the steps. His armor was cold and hard but I melted against him.

  The crowd was cheering and stomping and chanting, 'Red Knight' as he carried me out of the dining area. I peered up at him. "I think the Red Knight just won the hearts and minds of the entire arena."

  A faint smile crossed his lips. "There is only one person's heart and mind I want to win, and I'm holding her in my arms."

  "I would sigh dreamily here but my ankle hurts too much. However, you can expect one in the near future."

  Someone rushed to open the employee locker room and he carried me inside. Quinn's armor creaked as he lowered me onto the bench. The ankle looked even bigger. One of the theater crew came rushing in with a bag of ice. The kid's name was Gary and his color faded when he saw my ankle.

  Quinn knelt down in front of me, again a difficult task considering his costume. "Doesn't look broken. Might just be a really bad sprain." He gently placed the bag of ice over it. Gary hovered nervously next to us.

  "Thanks, Gary," Quinn said, apparently deciding that's why Gary was staying around.

  "Uh, Quinn, the crowd is yelling for the Red Knight. Are you coming back on the field?"

  Quinn's green gaze held mine as he spoke. "Nope, the Red Knight has to help his favorite damsel get to the emergency room. The show will have to go on without me."

  Gary seemed hesitant about heading off with the news that the Red Knight was done for the evening. As his damsel in distress, I didn't mind at all.

  "Now sit here and don't move," he ordered. "I'm going to head over to the dressing rooms and get out of this armor." With some effort he pushed to his feet.

  "I was kind of hoping you'd stay in armor and carry me into the emergency room. I think I'd be the envy of all the other patients. They might even get me into a room quicker if they thought I was important enough to be carried in by a knight in shining armor."

  "I would love to fulfill the lady's wishes but I don't think I can fit in my Porsche wearing shoulder plates. You'll have to settle for being carried in by plain old Quinn Armstrong."

  I reached for his hand. "There's nothing plain or old about Quinn Armstrong. I heard you gave notice that you were leaving this place. Guess your brother finally talked you into working for Plaything."

  He shook his head. "Nope. It was just too hard showing up here every day knowing you weren't going to be coming home with me. I was getting kind of used to you, to us."

  "I guess I was too. I haven't been the same since I walked out. Maybe we can revisit this whole thing now. My head is clear and fuckface is entirely out of my life now. Besides, if I keep eating my mom's pancakes and cupcakes, I will not be able to wear this stupid corset belt."

  He bowed. "Milady, I shall return." He turned to walk out.

  "By the way, what did you say to that jerk to make him fall out of his chair?"

  "A knight never reveals his secrets, but I believe I tossed in the phrase body bag for good measure."

  Twenty

  Quinn

  I carried the glass of wine into the bedroom. Suzy was propped up against the pillows, once again wearing my t-shirt. Her sprained ankle, now thickly wrapped, was propped up on a pillow. I handed her the glass of wine, then stretched out next to her and turned on my side to face her.

  "Have I mentioned just how fucking right you look sitting in my bed," I said as I pushed my hand under her shirt to caress her skin.

  "You might have mentioned it once or twice." She smoothed her palm over the quilt. "And I am rather fond of this bed."

  I propped up on my elbow and leaned over to kiss her. "I don't want to be pushy—Nah fuck it. I'm going all in on it. Why don't you pack up your cute, little duffle and move back in with me?"

  She rubbed her finger ar
ound the rim of the wine glass. "Well, I don't know, my room has this really cool Green Day poster and then there's my Beanie Baby collection."

  I laughed as I pushed her shirt up and kissed her stomach. "Bring the poster and the—" I looked up at her. "Did you say Beanie Babies?"

  "Oh, please don't tell me that you have never heard of Beanie Babies. We might have to call this off right now."

  I pressed another kiss against her belly, then pushed the shirt up above her breasts. "Are you sure about that?" I suckled her nipple lightly and she sucked in a sharp breath.

  "Well, maybe I can just teach you about them," she suggested. She took a good gulp of wine and handed it to me to put on the nightstand.

  I put the glass down and turned back to her. "Let's see, where was I?" I lightly pinched a nipple. She responded by arching her back and lifting her breasts higher. I lathed my tongue around each nipple.

  Suzy reached down and pulled my face up to hers. "Are you sure about this, Quinn?" she asked before kissing my mouth. "Are you sure you want me to pack up my bag so we can try this again?"

  "Suzy Q, I've never been more sure of anything in my life." I pressed my mouth over hers.

  More Plaything

  Loved Midnight Oil? Check out the rest of the series.

  Plaything Series:

  Easy Come (Trey’s story)

  Sweet Spot (Chase’s story)