Throw a Double for Spite

by Cherie Mitchell

  “You will.” She wound up the window and drove away without looking back. Paul was proving slow to take a hint. She needed to be more direct, but her brain was too tired to devise a solution right now. She switched on the car radio for some light music and promptly switched it off again, uninterested for the moment in listening to a police interview about someone called the Condo Creeper.

  She had just pulled into the garage below her apartment when her phone began to ring from the floor. She parked the car before bending to pick it up. Unknown Caller. Steve? Her palms tingled as she answered. “Hello?”

  “Is that you, Riley?” A deep, reassuring male voice spoke warmly against her ear, the kind of voice that a woman could lean into and shelter beneath, a rich baritone that promised confidence and reliability. “It’s Steve.”

  “Yes, it’s me. Hi Steve.” They spoke for a few minutes and Riley found herself readily agreeing to his suggestion to meet him for a drink the following evening. He sounded... normal and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t spent enough time getting to know him during the course of their tens of text conversations. She hung up from the call, thrilled to have a date with a man who just might turn out to be the one to walk hand and hand with her beneath a row of Japanese cherry trees in some idyllic future time.

  Chapter Seven

  Now that the time had almost arrived, Riley was uncharacteristically nervous about her upcoming date with Steve. They had agreed to meet at a local bar, a neighborhood venue that she’d visited several times in the past and she felt comfortable turning up there on her own. So why was she having so much trouble finding something to wear? She tore another top from the hanger in her closet and yanked it over her head. She pulled a face at her reflection before just as quickly removing the top again and adding it to the pile of discarded clothes on the bed. Maybe she should wear a dress?

  Briar’s Caller ID flashed up on Riley’s phone screen, where it lay on the bed next to the jumble of clothes. She answered the call and switched to loudspeaker before surveying the contents of her closet once more. “Hi, Briar. I can’t talk for long. I’m meeting Steve in half an hour. He phoned last night and asked me out.”

  “Steve? Is he your dating app lothario?”

  “Lothario? I hope not. I’ve had enough of lotharios to last me a lifetime.” She held a red dress up against her body and peered into the mirror. Would he think she was trying too hard if she wore this?

  “Sorry, slip of the tongue. Where’s he taking you?”

  “He’s not taking me anywhere. I don’t want him to know where I live until I know that I can trust him.” Her voice grew muffled for a few seconds, as she pulled the dress over her head and then rolled it down over her body. “I’m meeting him at Clancy’s.”

  “Clancy’s? That’s not exactly first date material,” Briar said scornfully. There was faint the sound of voices, followed by a ripple of laughter in the background.

  “I chose it.” Riley tipped her head to one side as she smoothed the dress down over her hips. It wasn’t bad – if she added a denim jacket and a pair of ankle boots with a mid-height heel she would feel comfortable yet classy, casual yet dressed up enough to make it look as if she’d made an effort. “Clancy’s is on my home turf. It suits me perfectly for a blind date.” She picked up the phone from the bed and carried it through to the bathroom. “Why did you call? Where are you? I heard voices.”

  “It was the TV. I’m at home, preparing for another boring night on the sofa. Not all of us are lucky enough to be heading out on a hot date.”

  “I don’t expect it to be hot. Not the first date, anyway. I’m not the jump-into-bed-on-the-first-date type.” Riley opened her makeup bag and began to lay her foundation and brushes out on the vanity top.

  “Do I hear a hint of condemnation in your tone?” Briar asked mildly.

  “Of course not. My comment wasn’t aimed at you. I’m not judging you for how you choose to live your life. I just don’t enjoy casual hook ups.” She fluffed the bristles of her foundation brush against the palm of her hand and stared into the mirror, frowning at the faint shadows under her eyes.

  “Well, there’s something to be said for that. The world probably needs a few more people with higher morals than myself. Hey, good luck. Let me know how it goes.”

  “I will.” Riley ended the call and turned her full focus to applying her makeup.

  ***

  The parking lot outside Clancy’s was almost full when Riley parked her car alongside the high boundary fence. She checked her reflection one last time in the rear vision mirror and added an extra slick of lipstick to boost her confidence. The butterflies in her stomach were doing distracting loop-the-loops as she locked the car door, blinking in the late evening sunshine. She wiped her hands down the back of her thighs before walking across to the main entrance. Was he here yet? Was he inside, watching her from behind one of the blank windows and drawing his own first impressions before she’d even laid eyes on him?

  She paused for a moment outside the door, forcing herself to count slowly backwards from three to calm her nerves. It’s not such a big deal, Riley. You only need to stay for one drink if it feels weird or uncomfortable .It’s not as if you’re meeting him in the woods. She took a deep breath, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, settled the strap of her handbag more comfortably against her shoulder, and pushed open the door.

  The excited buzz of a large family group celebrating a birthday drifted across from several tables in the corner of the restaurant as Riley stood at the bar and ordered a white wine. The only other people here were a middle-aged couple engaged in a desultory conversation over by the window and a blue-haired, plentifully pierced young woman with her head in a book and a half-eaten plate of fries on the table in front of her. Riley shifted uneasily as she waited for the tattooed barman to pour the wine. Was Steve going to stand her up? She hadn’t considered this. He hadn’t messaged her today either – had he had a change of heart and decided not to go through with it?

  She heard the door open and close behind her as she paid for her drink, but she didn’t turn around. Moments later, a low timbered voice spoke close to her ear. “Riley? Sorry I’m late. I got caught in traffic.”

  Relieved, she turned to him, a welcoming smile already arranged on her lips. The low sun from outside the window caught her full in the eyes and she ducked her head, taking a step back so she could see him properly. He was shorter and broader than she’d imagined, squat and stocky, but the brown eyes with crinkly edges and the movie star jawline were the same as in his photo. She waited to feel a tingle in her lower stomach, a delicious pinch of attraction, but it didn’t come. The butterflies had died away, only to be replaced by a hazy sense of disappointment. The enticing fizzle of chemical attraction just wasn’t there. “Hi Steve. No, you’re not late. I’ve just arrived myself.”

  He ran his eyes over her but he didn’t remark on her appearance, leaving her wondering if he felt the same leaden disillusionment as she did. He offered to pay for the drink that she’d already paid for before ordering himself a beer. Riley stood dully beside him and waited, feeling flat and a little awkward now that they were face to face. He was definitely the man in the photo but he wasn’t the potential lover that she’d envisioned. The easy, effortless banter of their online messaging seemed to have fled, leaving Riley temporarily at a loss for words. She fiddled nervously with her pendant as Steve led the way over to an empty leaner.

  The conversation limped on over the next twenty minutes or so and by the time she’d reached the bottom of her wine glass, Riley knew for certain that Steve wasn’t the man for her. The witty words that had flowed with ease when text messages were pinging backwards and forwards between them felt stilted and out of place when delivered in person. Long silences peppered the conversation and Riley found herself frequently glancing at the door, wondering if it was too soon to make her excuses and leave.

  Riley stole another look around the bar as Steve droned on about a sport
s game that she had no interest in. The blue-haired girl with the book had gone, leaving her unfinished plate of cold, greasy fries behind. The family group were singing happy birthday to a beaming octogenarian, the multitude of flaming candles atop the cake creating a forest of flames in her spectacle lenses. Riley stooped to pick up her handbag from where she’d dropped it at her feet before giving Steve a polite smile. “It was lovely to meet you, but I really should go. This week has been hectic at work and I have another long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

  He stopped talking at once, setting his mouth into a grim, unpleasant line. “I was just about to order another drink.”

  “Not for me, thanks.” She nodded at the door and aimed her feet in that direction as it opened and a couple of pot-bellied men in flannel shirts and blue jeans walked in. “I’ll head home.”

  He stared at her and for the first time, Riley understood what Megan meant when she said there was something hard about his eyes. The soft brown was now a flinty henna and the once cheerful crinkles now looked like frown lines rather than laughter lines. She realized with a start that she hadn’t heard him laugh once throughout their conversation.

  “I suppose we might bump into each other on the app.” She already knew what her next message would be – thanks but no thanks. She started to move towards the door.

  “Wait. I’ll walk you to your car. It’s the least I can do.” He gripped her elbow, holding it with surprising strength as he fell into step beside her.

  “Uh...” She glanced up at him and unsuccessfully tried to twist her elbow out of his grip. “That’s really not necessary. I’m parked right outside.”

  He didn’t reply but nor did he release her elbow. They marched stiffly down the steps and into the dark of the evening. The yellow light from the lamp at the bottom of the steps framed Steve’s profile as he looked up and down the lines of cars that filled the lot. “Which one is yours?”

  “I’m fine now,” she said firmly. She wrenched her arm away from his encircling fingers. “Goodbye, Steve.”

  She was halfway to her car, relieved to put the cumbersome meeting behind her, when he suddenly grabbed her from behind. She didn’t have time to scream before he spun her around and rammed his mouth hard against hers, painfully crushing his teeth into her lip. His hands crawled roughly down her back to cup her bottom and she struggled to get away as he ground his hips into hers.

  Chapter Eight

  Riley braced both hands against Steve’s barrel chest and pushed as hard as she could. She twisted her head, hurting her neck in the process, and wrenched her mouth out from under his. She whirled out of his grip, snatching her keys from her bag and poking them through the gaps in her fingers to make a makeshift weapon. Her mouth burned and throbbed as she held her armed fist in front of her and glared up into his smirking face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “You can’t tell me that wasn’t what you wanted,” he drawled. “You’ve been giving me the come-on since we first started talking.”

  “That was before I met you,” she hissed. “You’re not my type and you never will be my type, especially not after that unprovoked assault.”

  “It’s not an assault if the woman asks for it. Haven’t you ever heard the term, ‘by mutual consent? Come on Bambi, there’s no need for you to play the innocent with me. Everyone knows why women use sites like that.”

  He took a menacing step towards her and she yanked her phone out of her bag. “You have a choice. You can back off and leave me alone or I’m calling the police.”

  A flicker of uncertainty replaced his sneer as Riley began to back away, inching towards the safety of her car with both her fist full of keys and her phone held up in front of her so he could see them. “Hey, there’s no need to be like that.”

  “Leave me alone. I have no interest in you. And if you try to contact me again, I’ll report you.” She glanced behind her, pleased to see that she was nearly at her car.

  “Slut.” He threw the coarse word at her, spiking it with vicious emphasis, and spat at the ground before swinging away between two parked cars and disappearing into the night.

  Riley scrambled to open her car door and throw herself inside. She locked the doors before finally allowing herself to react, gasping with short, jagged breaths as her heart hammered and her pulse raced. How dare he? How dare he assume he could do that to her? How dare he rip away her feelings of security like that? She stared at the phone in her hand for several seconds before registering that she was still holding it. With trembling, bumbling fingers, she punched redial and pressed the phone to her ear.

  “Is this a mid-date progress report?” Briar laughed into the phone by way of greeting. “What do you think of him?”

  Riley tentatively touched a finger to her bruised mouth. Her voice was wobbly and tearful when she spoke, making her sound like a stranger to her own ears. “He’s a brute. He just attacked me.”

  “What?” Briar’s laughter stopped abruptly. “Are you ok? Where are you now?”

  “In my car outside Clancy’s.” She peered fearfully through the windscreen, her glance darting across the shadowy rows of cars. “He ran off. I don’t know where he went.”

  “Go straight home,” Briar said urgently. “I’m coming over. Stay on the phone with me until I get there. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.” She felt weak, powerless. How dare he! She dropped the phone onto her lap, her hands shaking as she wriggled the key into the ignition, missing the hole twice in her haste.

  “Are you still with me?” Briar’s voice spiraled up from where the phone lay on her lap.

  “I’m here. I’m driving out of the parking lot now.”

  “I’m in my car too, heading over to your apartment. I won’t be far behind you. Are you ok? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do you want me to take you to the police station to make a report?”

  Riley sucked in a breath, attempting without success to steady her voice. “No. No, I’m ok. He groped me and kissed me but that was all. I’m probably overreacting. It could have been worse.”

  “You’re not overreacting. Where are you now?”

  “Turning into my street.” Briar’s constant chatter had bolstered and reassured her and she felt her strength gradually returning. “It was probably my own fault. He said I was leading him on, but I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “Bullshit! It wasn’t your fault. Do you want to wait down in the garage until I arrive? You might feel safer waiting in your car.”

  “No.” Riley waited as the garage door began to rise, lifting slowly and methodically to reveal the brightly lit interior of the basement parking space. “I’ll go in. I’m feeling better now.”

  “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  The phone clicked into silence. Riley steered into her allocated parking spot and turned off the engine as the garage door lowered with a clunk. She bit back a weak, hysterical laugh as her knees wobbled when she exited the car. Calm down, Riley. You had a lucky escape and it’s all behind you now.

  Briar knocked on the apartment door just a few minutes later, announcing her arrival with a loud “Riley, it’s me. Briar. Open the door.”

  Riley, disconcerted to find that her teeth had now started to chatter uncontrollably, opened the door and allowed her friend to sweep her into a tight hug. “I’m ok, really I am,” she mumbled against Briar’s warm shoulder. “I’m just a bit shocked. I’m clearly an awful judge of character. I thought he was a nice guy.”

  “It could’ve happened to anyone. Don’t blame yourself.” Briar pulled back and held Riley by the shoulders, her large brown eyes kind and sympathetic. She raked her gaze across Riley’s face, wincing when her gaze fell on her mouth. “Your lip is bleeding.”

  Riley swallowed hard. “I know, and my teeth won’t stop chattering.”

  “It’s the shock.” Briar steered her over to the sofa, eased her down onto the cushions, and tucked a throw rug around her legs. “Don’t move. I’ll make you a hot
drink and then we’ll talk.”

  Sipping the hot tea did help somewhat and Briar’s kindness and attention were a comfort. Riley wrapped her hands around the mug and rested it on her knees as Briar pulled her armchair closer. “He acted so sweet when we were chatting online but he was so different in person. We didn’t click physically, there was no chemistry and I was happy to leave it at that, but he told me I was coming on to him and asking for it.”

  Briar rolled her eyes. “How original. What a pig. Are you sure you don’t want to make a police report?”

  “No. I just want to put it behind me. I made a bad decision but it could have been a lot worse.”

  Briar tapped her fingers impatiently on her knee. “You can’t just let him away with what he did. He went too far.”

  Riley shook her head. “It’s his word against mine and he didn’t physically hurt me. Anyway, I don’t even know his last name.” Her finger strayed to her mouth and she tentatively touched the tender patch.

  Briar’s gaze hardened. “He did hurt you. You have a cut on your lip.”

  Riley pulled her hand away and inspected her finger for any trace of blood. “He cut me with his teeth when he kissed me.”

  Briar held out her hand. “Give me his number. You must have it. You said he phoned you to ask you out.”

  “Why? What good will that do?”

  “You can’t let him get away with it,” Briar said again. “I want his number.”

  Riley hesitated. Briar looked so fierce and uncompromising, ready to go into battle on her behalf. “My phone is in my bag, but can’t we just drop it?”

  “Nope.” Briar stood up and walked across to the kitchen counter to fetch Riley’s handbag. She dropped it on the sofa beside Riley and returned to the armchair, where she pulled her own phone from her pocket. “Read it out to me.”

  Riley reluctantly took her phone from her bag and recited Steve’s number. “What will you say to him?”