A Cold Blue Call

by A. J. Downey

He really hated my job and I was beginning to think that, by extension, he held a seething hatred for me, and I couldn’t understand why. What had I done?

  My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Angel talking with Golden and Lys and tuned into the fact he was trying to weasel us out of Sunday dinner with them so that we could have dinner with my brother and his wife. I knew I needed to do it but…

  “Oh, are you sure?” I asked, when they acquiesced to Angel’s request to get out of it with far too much grace. I mean, his logic was sound. We were here now, and dinner to get to know me in two days’ time was more than a little redundant, considering Lys knew everything there was to know, thanks to last night, and Golden was about to catch up with the curve by learning more about me at the gym.

  I met Angel’s eyes and saw everything in them and thought to myself, Oh. Oh you’re good! I didn’t think that the gym suggestion was a happy accident. I think Golden was coached into asking, now. Sneaky, sneaky. Angel was not-so-gently steering me into a confrontation with Carter and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it one bit. Even if it’s being done for your own good? With your best interests at heart?

  Nope. Not even then, I wanted to fiercely deny, but that light note of pleading in Angel’s eyes pulled the ribbon on the neat little package of my anger and the paper fell away. The emotion, no longer contained, evaporated rather smoothly and I realized I wasn’t angry at Angel at all for the tactic because he did love me, and he was trying to fix it. I was angry at my brother that there was anything that needed fixing in the first place, because he really was acting like a jackass. I knew that. I had known that. But I still didn’t want to lose the only family I had left.

  Fuck.

  I felt my anxiety coalesce and rear its ugly head, and it made me unsettled and jumpy enough that suddenly cardio sounded like a really good idea.

  “You mad at me?” Angel asked when we were back upstairs, gathering our things.

  “I want to be,” I said honestly, “but no. I’m more angry with Carter. I realize my brother has been acting like a real jackass and it hurts. I’ve always looked up to him, all the while growing up,” I said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “So I really wanted to believe it’s my fault somehow, but I keep analyzing it and looking at it from every angle and all I can come up with is he’s pissed at me because I’m living my life the way I want to live it, and for some reason he just can’t deal with that.”

  “You know, I’m really proud of you, mi alma,” he said and the comment caught me off-guard and warmed me all at once.

  “Why?” I asked. “I mean, I guess I don’t really understand.” I didn’t either; it would be easy to believe it was because despite my brother’s wishes and emotional blackmail, I’d stood my ground and lived my life anyway, but with the way Angel was looking at me, I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that was all it was. He came to me and rested his hands lightly on my hips.

  “For refusing to be gaslit by your brother, for one. I can tell you’ve struggled with it, but you’re absolutely right. You’re not dealing with your issues, no matter how much he’s tried to make them your issues. You’re dealing with his issues, and its high time he put on his big-boy pants and looked at himself rather than putting everything off on you.”

  “I almost feel bad for him,” I confessed with a sigh.

  “How come?”

  “Well, I don’t think I’d be half so willing to believe it’s really not my fault what’s going on if it weren’t for you and my sister-in-law. You guys both have been really strong and steady that this isn’t my fault. I mean, sure, I’ve probably done plenty that is my fault in the past, but this time, this thing, it’s all Carter, not me.”

  Angel nodded and looked about as sad about it as I felt, and I hugged myself to him tight.

  “What?” he asked with a slight laugh and I just let myself hold him and be held in return for a minute before I could get it out.

  “I love you.” I settled on that first. “For pushing me to get better, for understanding that I won’t do it overnight, for holding my hand and taking much-needed steps forward and even taking the necessary steps back with me without ever judging… You’ve been everything I’ve needed lately. Selfless, trusting, and you’re one of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever met. I am so lucky to have met you.”

  He chuckled and said gently, “All of that is like looking into a mirror, mi alma. Your soul is the very same.” He kissed my forehead and hugged me tight.

  I didn’t know what to say, it was a pretty profound moment. The kind of moment that held gravity and weight, like speaking your marriage vows. Except it was just the two of us and whatever powers-that-be in the room… I guess that made it more special, more profound in some ways.

  “I love you,” I whispered again, and I don’t think I’d ever meant those three little words as hard as I meant them right then.

  “I love you, too, my heart, my soul.”

  And there he goes one-upping me yet again… I thought with a smile.

  The ride to the gym was damp and chill but not totally unpleasant. Golden rode beside us and it was a different experience riding when it was just me and Angel versus with another bike sharing the lane. Also, it made my thoughts drift to what it would be like to ride in a pack with the entire club once the weather got warmer. Angel had told me there wasn’t a scheduled club ride until spring, that for now, the only way one would happen were if it was an impromptu decision.

  I’d been vaguely disappointed by that. It was something I was definitely looking forward to experiencing. We parked in the fenced-off lot next door to the gym and went inside, where we found McGowan gathered with three other men at the counter.

  “Speak of the devil!” he cried when he saw me. “We were just talking about you, little lady.”

  “Me?” I asked.

  “Ah-yup. I’d like you to meet my partners. That’s Jefferson, Colt, Ringold, and Reynolds.”

  He introduced each man in turn and I gave a meek little wave. “Hi, I’m Claire.”

  “Nice to meet you, Claire.” Jefferson, a man as old as McGowan, stuck out his hand. I shook it with a firm grip and we ended up going down the line.

  “I was just talking to them about using that back store room as your space for those classes.”

  “You can really do what McGowan here says you can do?” Ringold asked.

  I nodded. “I can, and more.”

  He shook his head and said, “I don’t believe it.”

  I didn’t wait or try to explain, I just walked over to the climbing ropes, dropped my gym bag, did some cursory stretching, cursing my inner thighs, and kicked off my shoes. Without any discussion or preamble, I smoked their precious climbing times all over again in front of his partners. I locked my legs around the rope and even though it rattled my nerves because it wasn’t as secure as doing it from my silks, hung upside down. It was then that I asked, “Any questions?”

  McGowan laughed and clapped Ringold on the back who nodded and said, “All right, point taken. Get down from there, yah spider-monkey.”

  “I’d do it a lot more impressively if it were my silks, just so you know.” I grasped the rope with my hands above my head and let go with my legs, flipping right side up and let myself down hand over hand, smooth, controlled, and measured.

  “God damn, you got some strength on you,” Jefferson said, admiringly.

  “Years and years of practice,” I said modestly, touching my feet to the floor.

  Golden and Angel were having an entire silent conversation off to the side, and Angel interrupted, saying, “You do your thing, babe. We’re gonna get it done.”

  I nodded and they wandered off to start their workout while I stood with the men to discuss what they wanted out of me. The five of them exchanged looks and Colt said, “Let’s see what you think of the space.”

  We went to the back of the gym, through a set of wide double doors, into a dark back half of the warehouse. It was a lot bigger, more sp
acious than I expected and really only half taken up by a mishmash of defunct equipment and packaging, like they’d moved everything in out front and just forgot about back here.

  “Oh, wow. You could do a lot more back here than just Tissu lessons.” The ceilings in here were even higher than out where the climbing ropes were, by a good eight to ten feet, and the back wall was lined with huge bay doors, harkening back to when this place was indeed a shipping warehouse.

  “In the summer, you can open those bay doors,” Reynolds said.

  “You could also run the silks up and use the space for yoga lessons when it’s not in use for silks dancing. Have you thought about offering fitness dance classes?”

  The men all looked at each other.

  “Do what now?” Ringold asked.

  “Like Zumba or belly dance?” I asked. “This space could be perfect for a multitude of things. Some chandeliers, mirrors all along that wall, some paint on the rest… You could really up your game and bring a lot of female clientele through the doors. You have something unique to offer them.”

  “Oh, yeah, what’s that?” McGowan asked, shrewdly.

  “You know any women who don’t pursue their personal fitness?” I asked.

  “I think we all do,” Jefferson said, smiling.

  “Why?” I asked. “What are their reasons?”

  “Fear of judgment,” Reynolds supplied.

  “Hitting the gym after work is tougher for them, especially in the winter, because the city is dangerous,” I said.

  I saw the lightbulb come on.

  “Hard to fear for your personal safety when you have a bunch of off-duty and retired police officers standing around and able to walk you to your car,” McGowan said. “I like the way you think.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Make this a judgment-free space; crack down on the lunkheads that do come through that would say something – sort of a ‘three strikes you’re out’; advertise like crazy with fliers, postcards, on social media…”

  “Holy shit, you’ve really thought all this through,” Jefferson said with a laugh.

  “I sort of lost my job at the circus this week and I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”

  “What happened there?” McGowan asked, and as a prospective employee, I told them.

  “You’re joking?” Jefferson asked in disbelief, scratching the back of his head. He had brown hair and a hairline receding to either side of a wide swath up top in the middle. It didn’t look bad, but much more he probably would have done better going bald. Of course, that was my personal judge-y preference and not one I would dare utter out loud.

  “I wish I were. Angel has video of it and everything, but the owners of the Night Circus won’t be swayed. They stand by his decision.”

  “I’d sue,” Ringold said.

  “I plan on it.”

  “Takes a lot of guts to come in here and tell us you’re gonna sue your last employer while lookin’ to work a deal here,” Colt said.

  “Hey, to be fair, it was my idea,” McGowan said.

  “I’d like to one-up your idea,” I countered, looking at the five of them.

  “Oh, yeah? This we gotta hear,” Ringold crossed his arms over his massive chest and I smiled.

  “I’m sitting on a pretty decent pile of savings,” I said. “I’d be willing to put a chunk of it to use, buying the silks and some of the hardware to hang them. Paint, mirrors, basically everything needed to kit this back room out – including some advertising.”

  “In exchange for…?” Reynolds said carefully.

  “A share in this place’s profits until the loan is paid back, at say… six percent interest?”

  “That’s awfully low,” McGowan said.

  “I want this to succeed. I also want to do something that will keep me here in Indigo City with Angel. The loan and repayment would be on top of a regular wage, teaching regular classes.”

  “You want a job.”

  “I want a job. A real one. Not temporary, not a class-by-class under-the-table sort of thing. I want a real job, on the books, health insurance – the whole nine yards.”

  “You ain’t asking much,” Ringold said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

  “Might as well make you a partner,” Colt agreed, laughing.

  “Up to you, boys. That’s what I want, though. I’ll even get this all cleared out and do most of the work in here myself. Save some money on having crews come in and do it.

  “You, do all this?” Ringold demanded.

  “I have friends in both high and low places,” I said. “I’m betting Angel could get some of his club to help; I know I could get some of my circus people in here, too. I could do it. Don’t sell me short.”

  “Seriously, boys. I learned that shit the hard way,” McGowan said, laughing. “The hit to my pride still smarts.”

  I smiled at him and said, “You know where to find me.”

  “How much money you got put away?” Ringold demanded.

  Colt shook his head.

  “Jesus, man! That’s not something you ask!”

  “It’s fine.” I named the figure.

  Looks got traded and Jefferson gave a low whistle.

  “We’ll get back to you,” McGowan said, a bit of pride shining in his blue eyes. I winked and turned and walked away with my head held high even though I was a nervous screaming wreck on the inside. I mean, I’d just committed to something huge here, totally off-the-cuff. The risk to me was far greater than the risk to them and they had to know that.

  Part of me was like Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, what did I just do?

  I joined Angel and Golden, and about twenty minutes and three lifts into one of my sets later, the five of them came out of the back room. McGowan looked over at me and called out, “You got yourself a deal, sweetheart. Come talk to us when you’re done.”

  My mouth went dry but I gave him a nod and kept at what I was doing, never losing count, never missing a beat. Confidence was everything, or at least the appearance of it. Angel looked at me questioningly and Golden’s face echoed his twin’s look down to the last detail. I shook my head and finished my set, winded. I caught my breath, drank some water and told them, “Later. Let’s finish the workout and then I’ll fill you in before I go talk to them.”

  “Okay. Everything all right?” Golden asked.

  “May have just bitten off more than I can chew,” I confessed with a reckless grin, “but yeah. I think everything is going to be fine.”

  “Whatever you’ve done, I’m sure it will be fine. In fact, I’m sure it will be great and I’m here for you no matter what,” Angel declared. His tone was laced with approval and I smiled. I think he knew that I was trying to put down roots, to stay with him, and I knew that he wouldn’t be disappointed by that. The rest was debatable.

  We would find out.

  23

  Angel…

  I’d never seen her so nervous. Not even after she’d told my brother and I what she’d offered up to the men of the Thin Blue Line. That was a huge undertaking on her part, but one I was fully behind because it meant that she would stay, that she was trying to stay, and that was everything. Of course, with the money she was investing into the business and by extension her future, along with what it was going to cost for a lawyer to sue her former employer she was officially strapped, but I didn’t care. I knew it would potentially take years for the lawsuit to be resolved, but I was proud of her for pursuing it, for not letting her poor treatment lie.

  Now it was time to tackle her treatment closer to home. Her brother and sister-in-law were coming for dinner.

  She’d tried to get out of going to church with me and Manolo that morning and I admit I wasn’t gentle about pressuring her into it. I didn’t want her around the house by herself worrying incessantly about tonight. She’d gone with us and had admitted afterward that the ceremony of it had calmed her nerves some. Still, she confessed that church wasn’t always for her. I was a little disappointed, but I understood
it wasn’t for everyone. It wasn’t a deal-breaker for me at all. Religious tolerance and diversity were more important. Claire had both so I could let it go. Besides, I got it. She was too free-spirited to be locked into something like organized religion. To her, it felt like a cage and I loved her as wild and free. There would be a sort of sadness about locking her into a cage, even one that I thought was as beautiful as my faith.

  She was a good and beautiful soul, and that was enough for me. I refused to believe that my God would punish her simply for not attending his house once a week. My God was a loving and forgiving God, not a vain and vengeful one. It was something I deeply believed in and something that I was also deeply saddened by that more people didn’t. After all, actions spoke louder than words when it came to any faith and a few bad apples really did spoil the bunch.

  When we got home from dropping Manolo off with his paternal grandmother for the afternoon, Claire suddenly turned into a cleaning fiend. She went over everything from top to bottom, just to have something to do, something to occupy her, until her brother and sister-in-law arrived. We’d changed out of our Sunday best and she was suddenly off like a shot.

  The damage hadn’t been too bad from the storm. A few things had shifted on the kitchen counter; some books had fallen off the shelves upstairs. Enough had been disturbed to tell me that riding it out at Golden’s had indeed been the better option. Still, she’d taken the opportunity, when putting things to rights with me, to do a lot of the dusting and cleaning then. She’d certainly gotten us all caught up on laundry. So this now was a pure frenzy of nervous energy and a bid at unparalleled perfection that her brother could find no fault in, and I let her have it. I simply did what she asked of me when she asked it, to keep her cool and keep her calm because she looked like a woman on the brink.

  I did, however, have her take one of her anxiety pills when I caught her sniffing and tearing up while scrubbing out the bathtub which was far from needing it. She’d taken it and about an hour later, I’d asked if she felt better.

  She’d nodded and affirmed, “Better.”