by Jean Joachim
“I hope it’s not with that ballplayer. Honey, he makes more in one year than I’ll see in a lifetime.”
She laughed. “I need some new clothes for the job, too.”
Keith’s eyes lit up. “I’ll say you do. Ragamuffin is not a style that suits you. Let’s go shopping together. You know how I love to shop.”
“And you have such good taste.”
“You need to dress sexy. Better tips,” he said.
“I’ve got two week’s pay in my pocket, she patted her jeans. When do you want to go?”
“Carl gets an employee discount at My Girl, the dress shop on twenty-first. Maybe we should start there.”
“Good idea. Tonight?”
“Aren’t you working?”
“Monday’s my night off.”
“Perfect. Okay, girl. Time to get you some hot stuff to ramp up that tip jar.”
She smiled and sat back. Keith boosted her confidence. The first week on the job hadn’t been too bad. In addition to her salary, she’d taken home two-hundred and fifty bucks from tips each week. The singer knew five hundred wouldn’t go far in Manhattan, but it seemed like a fortune to her. At least she could buy her own Metro Card and a sandwich.
Keith dressed and went off to his job as an administrative assistant. Kate pulled out one of his books of Cole Porter tunes and sat down at his keyboard. It was time to brush up on her playing and master a couple of new songs.
She threw together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and hit the streets at one. It was chilly, and she ate her sandwich as she strolled the streets of Chelsea, a neighborhood on the West side of Manhattan in the twenties. Small shops, delis, and mom-and-pop restaurants held her interest. As she passed a beauty salon, she realized she hadn’t had a haircut in months.
Desiring only a trim of an inch, she entered. The man serving her gave her a slightly new style which suited her face. Refreshed, she was ready to put some new styles on her luscious body. But first, a mani-pedi. One glance into her wallet told her it would have to be a manicure only as there weren’t funds for the pedicure as well as the clothes.
She shrugged and entered the nail salon across the street from Keith’s. By the time he got home, she had her ‘hamburger surprise’ keeping warm on the stove.
“Dinner’s ready. Come on. Eat and let’s go shopping.” She tugged on his sleeve.
Tuesday afternoon, Kate took a long bath and took her time applying makeup. When Keith returned from work, she was dressed in her new turquoise sweater, cut low and long, slinky, black jersey skirt. With four-inch heels, silver jewelry, and makeup, Kate would stop traffic.
“Holy shit! You’re hot, baby,” Keith said, his eyes widening.
“Oh my God! Who is this? What did you do with Kate McKenzie?” Carl said, opening the front door.
She grinned. “So I look okay?”
“Honey, there won’t be a soft dick in the joint,” Keith said.
“Good. Horny men leave bigger tips.”
“I don’t think you should take the subway home, darlin’,” Carl said.
“Why not?”
“Looking like that? It isn’t safe.”
She brushed his worry off. “I’ll be okay. I can handle myself.”
Keith nodded. “Sure, sure. Like that guy in Long Beach?”
“That was different.”
“You’re just lucky I work out.”
She checked her watch. “Time to go.” She kissed each of the men goodbye and headed for the subway.
Once she got to the bar, she put her coat in the back room, got a glass of water, and went to the piano. There weren’t many people there at six, but she knew by eight there would be a small crowd. She did an arpeggio, then a few exercises, warming up her fingers.
She recognized a few regulars who strolled in about seven. Some nodded to her, others came over with requests. If she knew the tune, that was fine, if not, she made a note of it and planned to add it to her repertory.
While she waited for the crowd to grow, her thoughts turned to Jake. She hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days. She assumed he was busy traveling and playing ball. Maybe he’d met someone new in a bar in Washington? The thought tugged at her heart. She couldn’t blame him for moving on.
Her mind replayed the days of their travels together. Before she knew it, she was playing their old song Friendship and singing along as if he were there.
* * * *
The road trip was exhausting. The nightmare about Kate didn’t return, leaving Jake to sleep soundly. The games were close. The Nighthawks lost two of the three in Washington. There were errors and no one on the ‘Hawks was hitting. A gloomy atmosphere prevailed on the bus back to New York. Jake slept the entire way.
Happy to be home, the slugger unpacked his bag and dumped his clothes in the hamper. His housekeeper, Blanche, would take care of the wash the next day. He’d wondered why he hadn’t heard from Kate. Maybe she didn’t pay her phone bill and it had been turned off. He dialed. It went straight to voicemail.
The sleep on the bus meant he was now wide awake. He called Skip.
“Dinner at Freddie’s?”
“I’m kinda tired,” Skip said.
“You’re supposed to sleep on the bus, stupid.”
“Really? Is that in the player’s manual somewhere? Must sleep on bus ride back home? Guess I missed it.”
“You know what I mean,” Jake said.
“I know exactly what you mean. You got some shut eye, and now you want company. You want to go out tomcatting and don’t want to do it alone.”
“I was only thinking about dinner.” Being alone didn’t appeal to Jake.
Skip laughed. “That’s a new one. You not cruisin’, lookin’ to get laid.”
“This is the new me.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“So come to Freddie’s with me. You’ll see I’ve changed.”
“Maybe.”
“Steak. I’m buyin’,” Jake said, crossing his fingers.
“You twisted my arm.”
“Meet me there in half an hour,” Jake said.
“Make it an hour,” Skip replied.
“Done.”
Jake hit the shower and put on gray slacks, a white button-down and his navy blue sports jacket. A blue and green rep striped tie added color. He was ready. He tried Kate again with the same result as before.
He lucked out, finding a parking spot right in front of the bar. He locked the door and whistled the tune he’d sung on the trip. As he walked up, a voice stopped him. It was female and singing that same song. It was Kate! He pushed through the door and almost dropped his teeth. There she was, Kate McKenzie, sitting at the piano in Freddie’s, singing their song. His heart beat doubled as a wide grin stretched his lips. He headed toward the music. When she spotted him, she stopped. She looked different.
“Kate! That is you, isn’t it?” His gaze swept over her, taking in her new hairstyle and her prominent cleavage. His fingertips recalled the feel of her supple flesh and sent a zing right to his dick.
“Jake?”
“It is you. You look different.”
“I clean up good,” she retorted, grinning.
“I’ll say. I’m so glad to see you. What’re you doing here?”
“I work here, now. Remember when you told me Tommy was looking for someone? I applied and got the job. This is my third week.”
“That’s fantastic!” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was more beautiful than ever. Their gazes locked and Jake lost himself in the blue-green beauty of hers. “Can I buy you a drink?” came out of his mouth without him even being aware.
“Ginger ale, maybe. I don’t drink while I work.”
“Very wise.” He signaled Tommy. “Ginger ale here?” The barkeep nodded.
“You were singing our song,” Jake blurted out.
“It has become our song, hasn’t it?” She played a few notes of the familiar piece.
“I miss you so
much. Move back in with me,” he spit out before he lost the courage.
Her hands stilled. Her eyes filled. “I miss you, too,” she whispered.
“Whatcha having, Jake?” Tommy asked, delivering Kate’s soft drink and interrupting them.
“Same, Tommy. The same.”
“Game tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Jake whipped out a handkerchief and passed it to the singer. She wiped her eyes and looked up at him.
Tommy’s gaze jumped from Jake to Kate and back again before he spoke. “Oh, I see. You two have met before?”
“You might say that,” Jake muttered, still staring at her.
“Oh, okay. I’m going.” Tommy returned to the bar.
“Maybe we should date first?” she asked.
“Date? That’s moving backward,” he replied. Maybe you should move in with me and never leave. When she stiffened, he held up his palm “Okay, okay. If that’s what you want. How about tonight? Burger after you’re done here, and I’ll drive you home?”
“What about your game?”
“It’s a night game.”
“Okay. Sounds good. I get off at eleven.”
“Wow! You’re working hard.”
“I’m trying.”
“Looking for more auditions?”
Tommy returned with Jake’s drink. “Look, Jake, it’s not like we haven’t been friends forever, but I’m not paying Kate to talk to you.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Just that I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
“That’s your problem. Talk to her after eleven.”
“I will,” he said, picking up his glass and sitting at a table near the piano.
“How can we talk if we’re so close to the music?” Skip asked, sliding onto the seat next to the slugger.
“Oh. Hi. Yeah. It’s Kate.”
“What?” Skip looked over. “Holy shit, it is! She’s lookin’ real good.” Skip shook his head.
“Yeah. She looks great.” Jake sipped his ginger ale.
“You’re gone, buddy. Past it. All in, completely insane,” Skip remarked looking back and forth between the lovers.
Jake chuckled. “You said it.”
* * * *
Kate could hardly concentrate on the music. Jake looked fine. He cleaned up great. The dark blue of the jacket brought out the blue in his eyes. His shoulders were so broad, she wondered if he had to turn sideways to fit through the doorway.
Looking at him heated her blood. Squeezing her thighs together, she felt dampness. Crap! He turns me on just by looking at me. If they’d been alone, she’d have ripped his clothes off and had her way with him.
Her nipples hardened at the memory of his hands on her. Sexy thoughts floated through her brain. Oh yes, things were not finished with this man yet. Not by a long shot. She forced herself to focus on the music and tried to remember the new songs she’d been practicing.
Three new pieces were all she could conjure up by memory. Damn, the slugger messed with her mind and her body. She gave new emotion to the love songs she crooned and attracted some new fans. Two women left their men at the table, talking sports, and wandered over to the pianist. She played a few requests for them, and they sang along.
The women added money to her tip jar, and when they left, their men did, too. Every night the cash grew, as people noticed her and appreciated her sweet, clear voice. Jake hid behind the small crowd gathering and dropped in fifty bucks.
“I saw that, Nighthawk,” she said.
“I’m not taking it back. He returned to his table as two steak dinners arrived.
On her break, she checked her cell and noticed a text from Keith:
Take a cab home.
She replied:
I’ve got a ride. No worries.
He questioned:
With who?
She answered:
Jake. The ballplayer. Don’t worry.
Keith:
Good. Much relieved. See you later.
She wondered if she’d see Keith later. Jake wanted to take her home with him and she wanted to go. Why shouldn’t she? Wasn’t it the same as bunking in with Keith? Except for the fact that she’d be sleeping with Jake and she wasn’t with Keith. Big difference.
While her career stalled and she tried to jump start it, why shouldn’t she have some fun, enjoy love? Who knew how long it would last? Would she get a call to do a show in California? Would he get tired of her? She smiled. She figured that was more likely to happen than her getting that call to go to Hollywood.
Driven to succeed, Kate had put work above all else. She’d had a few affairs while doing regional theater—short-lived relationships that lasted as long as the run of the show. She’d never had a serious one, nothing with commitment and genuine love. Hell, love had been in short supply all her life.
Her dad had stayed with the family until he couldn’t take her mother’s gambling anymore. When she turned ten, he had moved out. When she got older, Kate stopped blaming him. Thank God, he’d paid the rent until she left home. Their life had been all about hiding money from her mother so they could pay the rent and buy food. Her mom had been wily and difficult to foil.
She loved her father very much. He’d moved on, remarried, and had another family. She didn’t see him or speak with him much, not because he didn’t care about her, but because he had a new wife and young children who needed him. Again, it wasn’t his fault. She was simply fallout from a bad first marriage. She got that.
Then along came Jake. It wasn’t a good time to get involved, her career was just getting off the ground. But it was too late for that. His charm, caring, and sexiness had touched something in her she’d shut off for years. He’d lit a fire, started a hunger for love—physical and emotional—she could no longer deny.
His offer was tempting. Forget about her career. Everyone knows how impossible it is to get to Broadway or the movies. If she ignored that, took her rejection as a sign that she wasn’t good enough and settled down with Jake, she’d have a good life.
Of course, Jake wasn’t offering that, he was simply opening his door. That welcome could morph into ‘get out’ in a heartbeat. She needed to have some kind of career or work, and be able to support herself. Life had taught her not to rely on the generosity of others. Outside of singing, dancing, and acting, there wasn’t anything else she wanted to do. She laughed to herself. Perhaps nothing else she was any good at, either.
She peeked at him, eating at the table with his friend. They were talking and laughing. Kate yearned to be part of their group. Easy camaraderie, and being accepted by others had always been her dream. But during her high school years, with a mother who gambled, her life had become one of secrets, covering up, and hard work. In high school, she had waitressed to pay their rent.
More people crowded around the piano, blocking her view of Jake and Skip. She played their requests, and they sang along. These women didn’t leave tips, but the men did—big ones, too. With a ride home from Jake, she’d have some money to put in the bank tomorrow so she could pay her cell phone bill. A smile lit up her face. It may not be Broadway, but she was performing, sort of, and had an audience. At the end of the number, Jake’s applause was the loudest. Life was getting better, wasn’t it?
She checked her watch. Only one more hour to go. She glanced at him. He was deep in conversation with his friend. Soon, she’d be the one getting his attention. She smiled as she took another request.
* * * *
“What happened to you?” Skip asked, adding butter to his baked potato.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, most of us have off days. Hell, we’re lucky if Nat ever gets on base besides drawing a walk, but you struck out like four times this trip. That’s not like you?”
“Trying too hard,” Jake said, lowering his gaze to his food.
“Trying too hard to hit or to forget some hot chick who sings?”
“Both.” Putting a piece of meat in his mouth stopped conversatio
n. Was Skip’s question on the minds of all his teammates? What about Cal Crawley, did he wonder the same thing?
“You can’t let a chick interfere with your game.”
“It’s never happened before.”
“Get your head screwed on right, Jake. We need you. We’re going all the way to the Series this year, and we can’t do it without you.”
“I know, I know. This isn’t news.”
“So either get it together or dump this chick.”
Jake stopped chewing for a moment and stared at his teammate.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’ve never been more serious.”
Jake swallowed. “I meet the first girl who’s real, and you want me to dump her? Go fuck yourself.” He filled his fork with potato.
“I didn’t say that. Calm down. I said get your head on straight. Geez. Touchy, aren’t you?
“About Kate, yeah, I am. So watch it.”
Skip put his hand on his friend’s forearm. “I’m happy for you, Jake. I am. I’m just worried about the team. Fuck it. Maybe you should marry her.” Skip sliced another piece of steak.
“That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said.” Jake glanced at his watch. Eleven.
He heard Kate’s announcement. She thanked the patrons of the bar, picked up her tip jar, and closed up the piano before joining Jake.
He rose and pulled out a chair for her.
“Looks like a fine haul. Your fans appreciate you,” he said. “This is Skip Quincy, our shortstop.”
She took Skip’s hand and eased down onto the chair next to Jake.
“What do you want to eat?”
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and picked up the menu. Tommy wandered over.
“Nice job tonight, Kate. We had a big crowd.”
“Thanks, Tommy.”
“What’ll you have? It’s on the house,” the barkeep asked.
“Thanks. How about a cheddar burger with sweet potato fries and a Coke?”
“Coming right up. Jake? Skip?”
“Nothing for me, I’m done,” Skip said, pushing to his feet.
