Minus

by Jack Davenport

  I smiled. “No. I still have three hours. But you can tell him, nice try.”

  She chuckled. “Um, no, I don’t think I will be telling the CEO of the company I work for anything other than, ‘yes, sir,’ or ‘how high’?”

  “Would you mind grabbing lunch? I don’t think I’m going to be able to get out today.”

  “Of course. What do you want?”

  “Surprise me,” I said, digging thirty dollars out of my purse. “Grab yourself something too, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to take your break.”

  She grinned and took the money from me. “I know the drill.”

  I’d hired Melody two years ago and I adored her. Mostly because she was awesome, but also partly because she loved her job. She didn’t want to be anything other than an executive assistant, which meant, I would never lose her. Well, unless someone fabulous stole her from me, but that had already been tried and I won. Stupid big five tax company. I had more money at my disposal, so they could suck it.

  I bit back a yawn and focused on my screen again. I had gotten next to no sleep last night because every time I closed my eyes, visions of Jase going down on me danced in my head. No sugar plums for me. Nope, just his tongue on my clit. Although, I’m pretty sure he could figure out something creative to do with sugar plums.

  Damn it, I needed to be writing this proposal, not fantasizing about Jase sugaring my plums.

  Forcing my focus back to the job at hand, I picked up the jar of Uncle Milton’s Elbow Lube and tried not to laugh... or groan. I couldn’t figure out which one was more appropriate. I could have pawned this off to one of my staff, but it was a source of pride to be able to put together a successful campaign for the most challenging products.

  Jeremy and I had met with Uncle Milton (yes, his name was really Milton, and he was in fact someone’s uncle), and tried to get him to change the name of the product, but he wouldn’t budge.

  I originally advised Jeremy to pass on Milton’s lube, but the truth was, it was a great seller, even if people more than likely bought it for a novelty gift. If Uncle Milton was aware of this, he certainly never let on, he was just happy cashing the checks.

  Sitting before me was the new “Spring Meadows” scent and I cringed at what this stuff could possibly be used for or why it needed to smell like fabric softener, but tried my best to focus on coming up with a marketing plan that would get it into the hands (or onto the elbows) of every dry pervert in the tri-state area.

  * * *

  Minus

  The Sanctuary was a ghost town, compared to how I’d seen it lately, and Cutter’s office was quiet.

  “So, Viper’s an even sneakier snake than we’d thought?” Cutter asked, before taking a pull from a portable oxygen tank.

  “It would appear so. How do you want to play this?” I asked.

  “It’s your money, it’s your show,” he replied.

  “My money? What do you mean?” I asked. “You’re the one that secretly called in every outstanding debt to the club.”

  “It’s yours, because with this cash, you and Cricket are going to lead the Burning Saints into a new era. Think of the club as a new tech startup, and this is your seed money.”

  “I figured this money was for cancer treatment, or for your retirement, as it very well fuckin’ should be.”

  “Kid, I’ve been living my retirement out for the last 40 fuckin’ years. I’ve been doing what I want to do, and going where I want to go, for most of my life. What am I gonna do now? Take up fly fishing? As for treatment; I’m not gonna spend the few days I have left on this planet tied to a poison drip, and I don’t wanna hear another goddamned word about it.”

  I nodded.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something else?” I asked. “Cricket hasn’t agreed to go along with any of this. Hell, I haven’t even talked to her yet.”

  “Listen, Minus, she’s smart. You explain it to her in business terms, just like I did to you, and she’ll understand just fine.”

  “Then why don’t you talk to her? You’re the man with the plan. Why do I have to be the one to give her the pitch of the century?”

  “Because she likes you, dumbass. Besides, I tried the other night and she walked out.”

  “Because of me!” I shouted. “She walked out because of me. What makes you think she’ll listen to a damned word I say?”

  “She agreed to meet with you, didn’t she? That’s gotta mean something, right?”

  “Agreed? No. She demanded,” I corrected. “She called me before I even had a chance to call her.”

  “That’s even better. See, I told you she’s crazy about you. I could see it from a mile away, and from the dopey look on your face, and considering how twisted up you are about this meeting tonight, you’re clearly still hung up on her.”

  “Alright, enough about Cricket,” I said. “I’ll figure out what to say to her later. Right now, we need to focus on this meeting with Los Psychos and how we’re gonna play it.”

  “We know for sure that Viper’s got the money?” Cutter asked.

  “He says he does, and that he’ll give it all back if you’ll simply agree to meet with him,” I replied.

  “Alone?” He asked.

  “Those were his terms, but as you can imagine, your Sergeant at Arms wasn’t about to sign off on sending you alone into a potential ambush, and as much as I hate to agree with Clutch...”

  Cutter smiled. “Alright, then what?”

  “We agreed on a sit down in a public place, with a plus one for both parties.”

  “Clutch is gonna want to be the one who’s there with me,” Cutter said.

  “I know that, but I want it to be me. I’ll talk to Clutch,” I said.

  “Have you thought about what it’ll be like with him once you’re the club president?”

  “If I agree to become president,” I corrected. “But why would I have issues with Clutch? He’s my best friend.”

  “Well, he’s been here, working close with me for the past six years, and he’s already an officer. There’s a chance he may feel passed over. There’re also a chance that he’ll have trouble taking orders from someone who’s been his equal for so long.”

  “The last person in the world I’m worried about is Clutch. In fact, the only two people I’m concerned about right now are you and Viper, so let’s get back to planning this meeting.”

  Cutter and I worked out the details over the next half hour, and I texted Viper with the time and place of the meeting, to which he agreed. We were to meet the following day, at the Portland Saturday market. Viper would bring the money in exchange for five minutes of Cutter’s time. My plan was to have Clutch waiting nearby in a van, just in case Los Psychos had anything up their sleeve. Grover volunteered to ride along, which made it feel like the old days. I was confident Viper would have hidden backup too, so I wanted to be ready in case anything popped off. Truth be told, I didn’t feel good about any of it though, and I told Cutter so.

  “What are you so worried about?” Cutter asked, smiling. “The whole thing sounds like a simple sit down to me. We’re doing it at a public place of our choosing, so we know it’s not an ambush.”

  “If it’s simply a sit down, then why steal the cash to draw you out? Why not just ask for a meeting with you? And what the fuck was up with all the tough guy bullshit last night at his fucking wannabe nightclub?”

  “I don’t know Minus, but this guy sounds like a punk to me,” Cutter said.

  “The problem is, we still don’t know much about him at all. Clutch was able to find out a little, but there are big gaps in the details.

  “What do we know?” Cutter asked.

  “He’s from Jalisco, and from what we can tell, he was a low-level guy who hooked up with Los Psychos while doing a six month stretch in a Mexican prison.”

  “Makes sense,” Cutter said. “Los Psychos started out as a group of guys from Jalisco that met while in the Oregon state pen in the early 2000s. The prison system se
ems to be how they vet potential members. They’re a straight up street gang, who happen to ride from time-to-time. Nothing like our breed of biker.

  “From what Clutch told me, they’re a small club, but they’re gaining in numbers, both here and back in Mexico. We need to be careful. Viper is still making his bones here state side, and he’s got a lot to prove. This meeting is likely some sort of big play for him.”

  “Well, that’s enough to know he’s dangerous, so you keep your eyes open, and try your best not to get us both killed,” Cutter said.

  Minus

  I felt like an idiot. Tomorrow I was going to have a sit down with one of the area’s most violent gangsters, and I was more nervous about dinner with a woman tonight. Then again, I wasn’t about to try and fool myself into thinking this was just some dinner with any ordinary woman. This was Cricket, and we had some serious shit to talk about. I knew everything I needed to tell her, but had no idea what I was gonna say, which was probably bad news for me, considering how bad I’d screwed things up last time we’d spoken.

  I was so hellbent on making a good impression tonight, I’d even worn a jacket and tie. Of course, I hadn’t packed any nice clothes, not that I had many in my wardrobe anyway, so I had to hit a store, with minutes left to change before we were set to meet. I felt like I was back in my Catholic school uniform. Fortunately, I didn’t have to stand there squirming in my new duds for long, as Cricket’s Uber car pulled up minutes after I’d walked down to the hotel’s front entrance.

  Cricket got out of the car, thanked her driver, and in a very business-like tone said, “Thank you for meeting with me, Jase.”

  Shit! She wore a tight, black pencil skirt, a silky white button-up blouse, and a pair of four-inch heel, fuck me shoes. Her hair cascaded down her back in loose curls and I couldn’t help but compare her to some eighties video vixen when the wind caught those curls as she walked toward me.

  All I wanted to do at that moment was to put her back in that car and tell the driver to get as far the hell away from here as possible. I could scarcely imagine why I was about to sit this intelligent, beautiful woman down and try to convince her to go along with some crazy scheme that I barely believed in. Only loyalty to my club and to my president could make to me do such a dumbass thing, and as much as I was convinced that she’d laugh in my face, I had resolved myself to relay Cutter’s plan and offer as promised.

  “Like I said, I really was gonna call you and apologize,” I said sheepishly. “I was kind of caught off-guard by you, and Cutter and, well, everything, and I acted like an asshole.”

  “No, you didn’t act like an asshole; you were an asshole,” she corrected.

  “Fair enough.”

  “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt that you will not behave as such tonight, but you’re on a short leash.”

  “Look, if you want to bring leashes and collars into this, we can—”

  “And no dirty sex jokes!”

  “I’m sorry.” I smiled. “You make me nervous. You always have. Whenever you made me nervous back then, I’d always crack some stupid joke to make you blush just so you wouldn’t notice how scared I was. I guess old habits are hard to break. I promise, I’ll be a perfect gentleman from here on out.”

  I made the mistake of looking directly into her eyes for just a moment too long, which was kind of like staring straight at the sun. I saw her expression soften, before she snapped back to no-nonsense mode.

  “Okay, then. Apology accepted.” She extended her hand straight out, and I did my best to suppress a smile as I completed the handshake in my most business-like manner.

  “So, you wanna eat here at the hotel? The food’s supposed to be good. Apparently, the head chef was runner up on Chef Battle, U.S.A.”

  “As long as it’s not served from a food truck, I’m happy,” she said.

  “Not down with the whole meals on wheels trend, huh?” I asked.

  “I have no personal objection, per-se, but our office is downtown, near where the food trucks park. Unfortunately, we’re down-wind from them, so at lunch-time the combined smells waft towards our building.”

  “And that doesn’t make you hungry?” I asked.

  “Far from it. Imagine the combined smells of curry, barbeque, smoked salmon, falafel, fish tacos, and smeat, all blowing at you on a hot summer day.”

  “What the fuck is smeat?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, but they’ve got a food truck that specializes in it.”

  “Well, according to Yelp, this place appears to be more of an upscale, smeat-free establishment... with proper ventilation.”

  “Then, by all means, lead the way inside.”

  “Good, because it looks like it could start raining at any second,” I said, as I held the door open for her.

  The restaurant at the Hotel Dufrane was as beautiful as advertised. I slipped the hostess a little something for a private table, and she instructed our server to seat us at booth number three. He led us to an intimate spot, located in the back corner, and sat us down.

  “Wow, Mr. Bond, I’m impressed. A tie, a private booth. What next, a ride in your Aston Martin?” Cricket teased.

  “Fat Boy.”

  “What?”

  “Along with putting me up in this fine establishment, and paying for this dinner, Cutter has also purchased me a brand-new Harley-Davidson Fat Boy.”

  “Wow, he’s really trying to wine and dine you, isn’t he?” Cricket razzed.

  “Speaking of which. Drink?” I asked.

  “How can I say no, when I know my uncle is paying?” She smiled, and I swear to God it felt like my heart was being squeezed.

  I turned to our server, “Champagne for the lady, something very old, and very expensive. And I’ll have—”

  “A vodka martini; shaken, not stirred,” she said.

  I laughed and replied, “Perfect.”

  Our server left us, and for the moment we were alone; something Cricket and I had not been for a very long time.

  I cleared my throat nervously.

  “So, look. Here’s the thing. I’ve got a lot to say, and to be honest with you, I’m not quite sure where to start. You said on the phone that you had some questions for me, so how about we start there?”

  “You sure you don’t want to wait for your drink?” she asked.

  “I think I’m good, ask me anything,” I replied.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure. Fire away.”

  “Okay, then. Why did you abandon me, disappear completely from my life, and shatter my heart into a million pieces? How do you sleep at night being such a cold, heartless monster? Why in the hell have you come back into my life, and how soon will you be leaving?”

  Just then, our server appeared with Cricket’s champagne and my martini, which he placed in front of me.

  “Thank God,” I said. “I’m gonna need this, after all. As a matter of fact, go ahead and bring me another.”

  “What happened to you being a perfect gentleman?” she chided.

  “Would you settle for an imperfect gentleman?”

  “Jase.”

  I gave our server a nod, and he replied with, “I’ll give you two some time with the menus, and come back for your dinner selections,” before disappearing.

  “I’m sorry, that was kind of a lot to lay on me all at once. You’re gonna have to gimme a minute to make some sense of all of it.”

  “What part do you need clarification on?” she asked, then sipped her champagne. The tip of her tongue slipped over to upper lip briefly and I felt my zipper press against my hardening dick.

  “Well, all of it. Being as the root of your feelings seems to be based on some sort of notion that I walked out on you.”

  Cricket’s face flushed with the red I remember seeing whenever she was about to rip me a new one. “Root of my feelings? A notion?” she ground out. “What other words can I use? You left me, Jase. One day, you packed up and moved to Georgia, and I never hear
d from you again. We had been together for almost a year. You were my first love.” She stopped there, as tears filled her eyes. She shook her head and stared out the window.

  I reached for her hand. “Cricket, I—”

  “No.” She pulled her hand away. “Don’t touch me. I can’t handle you touching me, or being sweet, or charming. I’m angry at you, and I don’t know why I’m even here. And... and... I hate you.” Cricket folded her arms and slumped down in her seat, avoiding eye contact.

  “I never abandoned you,” I said. “Please believe me when I tell you I had no choice in moving to Savannah.”

  “No choice? A chance to move up in the ranks comes along and you take it, but you’re telling me you had no choice?” she hissed.

  I frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I know all about why you moved to Savannah. Cutter offered you a deal and you took it, regardless of what it cost me.”

  “Cricket, I’m not sure what you think you know, but you’re wrong. I was forced out by Cutter, mostly because of your brother.”

  “I know you were forbidden to see me, but if you’d really loved me you would have told me you were leaving. You would have called me once you were there. You would have asked me to come with you,” she said, tears once again forming.

  “Baby, I don’t think you understand how being exiled works. If I had disobeyed Cutter, he would have taken my patch. I was given direct orders to stay away from you, and leave my life here behind.”

  “So you just went along your merry way? How could it have been so easy for you walk away from me?”

  “Easy? You think any of this has been easy for me? You think you were the only one that was in love? It took me a year to be able to go to sleep at night without drinking myself unconscious. I would wake up in the morning and my arms would ache because you weren’t in them. Every time my phone buzzed, I’d pray that it was Cutter calling to tell me I could come home and that, miraculously, you’d still be waiting for me. Every day that went by that he didn’t call, it made me hate him more. And every day that went by that I couldn’t have you, made me love you more.”