I set the bottle down nearby and tighten my heavy ponytail. “Well…she did ask for ice, and it is cold outside tonight.”
A manicured finger stretches toward me with brown eyes dancing behind it. “Exactly! She loves the cold because she is the cold.”
I cock my head to the side. “Okay, let’s have a little Christmas spirit. It didn’t look like her date went very well.” Barb’s eyes lose their sparkle and her smile falls, which kills me. I sigh inwardly and choose my loyalty, leaning forward to whisper, “But really, who wants to date an ice queen?” The sparkle springs back and she whoops loudly, followed by a gregarious laugh.
Glancing to movement in my periphery, I spot the last customers getting up from a booth on the far wall readying to leave. Those two have been sitting very close to each other all night, something I love to see. As he slides on her coat for her, then leans down and kisses her, I turn back to Barb with a different kind of smile, the kind that misses my husband.
Barb takes a generous sip of her wine and points to my ridiculously large stomach. “Your Momma’s one of the good ones, kid.”
I shake my head, holding onto my belly, feeling the taut rim of my pregnancy jeans under my extra large, black t-shirt. “Jacob, don’t listen to her. Your mommy’s a little rough around the edges. Barb, you should have seen how I got our Christmas tree!”
Chuckling, I leave that story hanging in the air as I walk over to ring up the lovebirds, my steps slower than they were earlier tonight. I’m feeling tired this close to closing time. Pushing an argument Brendan and I had about my working this late out of my mind, I smile and meet the couple just as they arrive at the opposite side of the bar’s counter. “Hi there, ready to close out?”
Nodding, the man lays down his credit card. “Yeah, thanks.” I notice dirt underneath his fingernails, and look up to get a good look at his face. He’s around thirty-three with light blonde hair, tanned cheeks and pale forehead, so he definitely works outdoors with a hat. Construction maybe? What I love is the way he’s looking at his brunette girlfriend, a pretty Asian of around my age, twenty-eight. And she’s looking at him the same way, wrapping her orange scarf twice around her neck to prepare for the chilly night, but her eyes are warmly locked on her man. Staring down at her, he cheerfully announces, “Yeah, I’ve got to get this one home for her present.”
I’m so close to making a sexual joke, it’s dangerous. Last thing I need is another Yelp review calling us out for being too liberal with our sexual innuendoes. Laura and I were joking one night about the shape of a certain bottle of tequila and the other uses for it that could come in handy, but apparently there were some among us who didn’t find that too funny. So I bite my tongue and sweetly ask, “Oh, celebrating a couple days early?”
The brunette’s face falls a little. “Carter’s going home to Chicago to celebrate with his family. They do a big thing on Christmas Eve. He leaves first thing tomorrow to get there before dinner.”
I sneak a quick glance to Carter and see him looking way more disappointed than guilty. Turning to run the card, I casually assure her, “Well, don’t worry. I have a feeling you’ll be going with him next year.” Peeking to see her reaction, I’m gratified by the deep blush coloring her face. He takes her chin in hand and kisses her gently.
I hand Carter the receipt to sign with a smile on my face. “You guys are making me miss my husband.” His girlfriend looks down at my belly and I answer the question she’s holding back. “Yes, this is his. And no, he doesn’t want me here working this late. A constant source of debate.”
With a gentleness I don’t possess, she asks, “Is it hard to work when you’re…”
“As big as a house?”
She laughs. “I was going to say pregnant!”
Grinning, I hook my hands over my belly. “I own the place, so it’s like my baby, too. Plus, working keeps me busy. This not-so-little one was due last week, so I’m losing my mind waiting. What’s your name? I know you’re Carter,” I add, looking at the blonde as he struggles to fit the card back into his over-stuffed wallet.
He nods with a smile as she holds out her hand to me. “I’m Violet.”
“Annie. Nice to meet you.” We shake and Carter joins in after, giving my hand a rigorous bounce.
Violet, feeling a bit more brave now that I’ve proven to be so easy-going, offers from behind a knowing smile, “My grandmother always said that babies know exactly when to arrive. It’s just the mothers who do not know.”
I look down at my unborn son, and raise my eyes to give her a skeptical glance from under my eyebrows. “You think he’s got a plan?” She nods. “We’ll see. It was nice meeting you both. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”
Carter booms, “Oh, you will. I live only a couple blocks away. Found this place after I read an article online. You were robbed here, huh? What was that like?”
My expression darkens. “You don’t have to worry about him. He’s behind bars now. We’re all safe.”
Violet stops him before he asks more, tugging on his arm. “I can’t wait to see the gift, Carter! It was nice to meet you, Annie. Merry Christmas!”
“Oh, right! You are going to love it, baby.” Successfully distracted, he calls to me as his arm goes around her on their way out. “Merry Christmas!”
I unconsciously pick up a white bar towel, tugging at the tiny knots of fabric as I watch them leave out the front door. But I’m not seeing them. I’m staring at the place on the floor where I knelt before the man I love, holding closed his wound and hoping he wouldn’t die in my arms.
“Annie, what about closing a half hour early?”
I blink. Look to my left. Manny is standing there next to me. “What?”
“What about closing a half hour early? It’s just Barb here now, and she can stay while we clean up, like she always does anyway.”
“Say that like you love it!” Barb demands in a comically loud voice from where she sits. He grins at her.
Pulled back into present day, I nod. “Sure. Uh, yeah. That’s fine.”
“You okay?” he asks, seeing my distraction.
I drop the towel and turn to the register, mumbling. “Yeah. Just tired.” He accepts this and goes to clean the booths as I ring up the last tab, hitting the keys on the old-school register with my mind on San Quentin Prison, only twenty-two miles away over the Golden Gate Bridge. Forcing back a shudder, I turn and walk to Barb suddenly anxious to get home to the man I married. “C’mon, Jacob, it’s time to go see Daddy.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Annie
Pretty sure my feet are going to fall off. So, why am I happy?
Manny and I are on the sidewalk watching Barb wave to us from the safety of a cab. “You kids are open tomorrow right? Christmas Eve, but not Christmas, right?”
Amused by her asking me this question for the millionth time, I call over, locking the front door of Le Barré. “Yep! I’ll be here. Oh, but I forgot to tell you, Taryn is still out of town, and I gave Laura the night off to be with Dan.”
“I’m not so lucky,” Manny jokes. I smack his arm and he cries out “OW!” like I really hurt him, when I most certainly did not.
“Oh please.” I roll of my eyes.
“You two are my favorites, anyway,” Barb lies. She loves the girls, but she’s a charmer, to be sure, so she’ll promise you favoritism even if you just met her. Waving as the cab takes off, she sings, “See you mañana!”
With his eyes following the departing red taillights, Manny asks me, “Do you think she has somewhere to go on Christmas?”
Slipping the keys in my bag, I sling the strap over my shoulder and button up my thick coat, pulling up the faux-fur-lined hood over my head and tucking my hair inside. “Yes, her son is coming into town. She’s bringing him in with her tomorrow. That’s why she’s so excited.”
“Ah.” He reaches two fingers under his beanie hat to scratch an itch on his head. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Boss. Thanks for letting me
come in. Gives me something to do.”
“Family still not speaking to you?”
His eyes cast downward and he scuffs the pavement with the tip of his rubber-soled shoe. “Nah. They’re still mad Mercedes is Jewish. I told them I’m not celebrating if they won’t let her come.”
“Manny…”
He looks up and stops me with a seriousness not normal for his personality. “Don’t say it.”
Crossing my arms against the coldness of his mother’s decision more than the cold, I quietly acquiesce, “Okay. I’m sorry. She’s just such a sweet girl…”
He shrugs. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My Mom is just being stubborn. You think God wants separation?”
The corners of my mouth turn up. “What do you think I think?” He smiles, and I reach out and hug him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Boss.”
We head in opposite directions since my car is up the street toward Knockout, which seems silly now that there are so many empty parking spots closer. There sure weren’t earlier. The cold air coming in from the San Francisco Bay sends a small shiver through my skin, but its nothing compared to the shudder that hits me when I notice the fog. Because of the unusually warm afternoon we experienced earlier, it’s thick, ominously drifting in between and over buildings like it’s alive.
A solitary car drives up, its speed too slow. I glance to it nervously, the protective clenching of my blood sending adrenaline into my system. But the person driving is an older woman looking at the buildings with her face close to the windshield; just a tourist visiting for the holidays.
Shaking off my anxiety, I pull out my phone, holding it like a security blanket. “C’mon, Annie, don’t be a scaredy-cat,” I whisper to myself, walking faster. After three steps I notice for the first time a slight echo to my footsteps. Am I imagining that, or is someone behind me, almost matching my pace?
If I stop walking, I’ll know.
With eyes darting left and right, I stop. The footsteps fall twice more and then stop, too. There’s someone following me. Quickly I start moving, faster this time. The footsteps fall behind me more heavily now, less sneaky, picking up time. Everything I learned in Krav Maga dashes through my memory as I consider what I can possibly do to fight off an attacker that won’t harm my unborn son. Punches? Hammer fists? But then what? What if he wrestles me to the ground? What if he harms my child? Remembering what A.J. said–The best defense is to get away safely and if that means run, then you run–I drop my purse and my phone in case that’s what he wants, and leap forward between two parked cars, running diagonally up the street toward Knockout. My hands are holding up the baby weight and my hood flies off, my hair whipping free as I start to scream, “Bobby! BOBBY!” over and over as loud as I can, hoping to God he’s got the music off already, and he can hear me. “BOBBY!!!”
I don’t know how many times I’ve yelled it when I see the door to Knockout swing open. Bobby runs out urgently searching for the sound, and he spots me. He breaks into a run. “Annie?! Is it the baby? What’s going on?”
I finally dare a look behind me.
No one is there.
Gasping for air, I swing my head around just as Bobby makes it to me, worry etched into his features. “It’s not the baby. I was being chased,” I choke, finding it hard to breathe. I grab onto his arms and use them to steady myself. He grips me by the elbows and waits for me to speak. “I was being chased. Did you see him?”
“I didn’t see anyone.” He searches the street. Only fog is moving there now. “You saw him?”
I shake my head. “I heard heavy footsteps. He was big. He was… right there.” Tears spring to my eyes. “Was I just being crazy? I swear I heard someone.” Remembering, I look at him, “I dropped my purse and my phone! I dropped them! If they’re gone, there was someone there. A mugger or…”
“It’s okay. I’ll go look. You stay here.”
I lean against the sturdy building for support as Bobby races around looking. In the middle of Mission, he dips out of sight and springs up on the sidewalk. He holds them both in the air, and my spirits sink. I know I should be happy it was in my imagination, but I don’t believe I imagined it at all. I believe there was someone there. There are enough nooks and crannies between the walls to hide a predator. The fact that those things weren’t taken is extremely unsettling. If he didn’t want money or my phone, what did he want? Me? Did he want me?
Bobby’s searching the area as he walks back to me. Handing me my things, he says, “I don’t see anyone, Annie. Are you sure?”
Blinking into the distance, I nod. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s to trust my instincts. I heard him.”
“Was there someone bothering you at Le Barré tonight?”
“No. No one. It was a really nice night. Everyone was in a holiday mood except one couple who seemed to be either breaking up or on a bad first date.” I laugh nervously. “Maybe it was the Ice Queen coming back to make us pay for making fun of her.”
Bobby smiles, but the smile stops before it hits his eyes. “You and Barb?”
“Yeah.”
He holds his palm up, asking for my phone. “Let’s call Brendan.”
Tucking it into my bag, I shake my head emphatically. “No! He’s been getting no sleep, worried the baby will arrive, that he won’t be ready.” Brendan will blow a gasket when he hears about this, and then I won’t be able to get any sleep. I need sleep. I can’t stay up with him tonight trying to calm him down, too. All I want is to get home to my husband. “Just walk me to my car?”
Bobby nods, but it’s clear he very much wants to call his friend right now. “Of course. Sure.”
“Bobby, seriously. Don’t call him when you go back into the bar. I’ll text you when I get home and tell Brendan first thing tomorrow. Nothing happened. What good is it going to do to wake him and freak him out, right? Come on.”
Bobby shifts his shoulders, considering the logic. After a second of debating what to do, he exhales. “Right. Okay. But you had better remember to text me or I’ll show up at your place banging on the door. I’m not kidding.”
Smiling gratefully, I assure him, “I will. I promise.”
The irony that I had to run to a man to protect me after all I’ve learned in self-defense, is not lost on me. But with this child, things are different. I can’t exactly move like I used to and I’m so much more vulnerable now than I would have ever admitted before tonight. It’s struck me very hard how fragile I’ve become, and I don’t like it. My hand is shaking as I pull out my keys, unlock the car door and get in, lowering myself carefully to the seat.
“Why won’t you just be born, Jacob? What are you waiting for honey?” I say, under my breath.
With streetlights glowing through the fog behind him, Bobby knocks on my window with his knuckles. His mouth is tight as he asks, “Why are you working, Annie? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
Sighing, I look up at him, and roll down the window. “Let’s not go there, okay?”
He nods, troubled. “Okay. None of my business.”
“Thank you for hearing me call for you.”
Dryly, he says on a smile, “The North Pole heard you. Santa’s on his way.”
I can’t help but grin, but sarcasm drips from my, “Har. Har,” and I roll up the window, cutting him off from saying more.
Pulling away from the curb, I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves, turning on the radio just in time to catch the beginning of Michael Buble’s I’ll be home for Christmas, but the question Bobby just asked me is louder than the radio. Brendan’s been asking the same thing. His ad agency is closed for the holiday break, and he wanted me to take time off, more for the overdue term than for the festive celebrations. Since I’ve been working almost every night to give Taryn time off, and now Laura, we haven’t even decorated the tree yet. Yes, it’s made the penthouse smell delicious, even with the side of guilt it’s served with, but still. I guess I’ve not been taking en
ough time for family things.
Even so, and I didn’t feel like repeating to Bobby what I’ve exhaustedly told my husband, but the bar is my child, too. It’s the first thing I’ve done on my own, and with the help he and Bobby gave me, it’s finally doing well. Tearing me away from it would be necessary because I love being there. Watching it blossom has been the greatest joy of my life, and with Jacob taking his time to come out, it’s given me something to focus on. And the doctor said I’m healthy and that working could possibly help induce labor. I shuddered to imagine that happening in the middle of a shift, but that didn’t stop me from using it as ammo for my argument.
Turning my car off in front of our building, I look up to the penthouse and sigh.
He is so not going to want to hear what happened to me.
Pulling my hood up, I grab onto the doorframe and hoist my fat ass up. Glancing around me, I pause to listen. I have the overwhelming feeling I’m being watched. A night bird whistles faintly in the distance. Shutting the car door, I walk to the front steps quickly, pulling out my keys. The shakiness still hasn’t left me, and it takes me a second to get the slender jagged point to slip into the lock. Looking behind me, I walk in and shut the door, heading for the elevator, the hair standing up on the back of my neck. It really feels like someone is staring at me, but I’m sure I’m being paranoid. I’m sure it’s still nerves from earlier.
Even still, as the elevator doors whoosh open, I can’t help but look toward the front of the building, through the windows. There’s only darkness, and a reflection of the lobby skewed and warped. If there is someone outside, he can see me clearly, but I can’t see him. I slip into the elevator and jab the button repeatedly to close the doors, unable to shake the eerie feeling. They slide closed with agonizing slowness and I hold onto my belly, humming unconsciously to my baby.
We’re the only apartment on the top floor, so the walk to our door is less painful. The moment I’m inside, I lock the deadbolt and rest against the door in an attempt to calm my heart.
Capturing Hearts: Hearts Series Book 4 Page 7
