Strong Enough

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Strong Enough Page 7

by Teresa Hill


  “Um, didn’t know I wasn’t.” Was all I could come up with.

  “Nope you aren’t, you almost look like you’re pissed at me or at someone.”

  My irritation has just hit mega high levels. And for that you better be damn straight I am not smiling. I hate it when people ask why I’m not smiling. If I have something to smile at I will. You can’t tell me people walk around all day 24/7 constantly smiling. If they do, they are stupid.

  I attempt to retract my hand but he grasps it tighter to hold.

  “Why are you trying to get away? I only asked a question.”

  “And why are you avoiding telling me your name and instead being rude?”

  “I wasn’t avoiding anything, I was asking a question based on an observation I made of you,” he says as he continues to hold my hand.

  I still am trying to remember where I have heard his voice before. Just like his feel, it is calming to me.

  “Ok Reese, you win, you don’t have to answer my question.” His southern charm fighting to show through as the side of his mouth curls into a slight smile. “But I will say, you are even prettier when you do smile.” A twinkle dances in his eye as he leans in and kisses the very top of my hand before he releases it.

  I pull my hand back and rest it on the lip of the ice bin directly below me. I have seen charm and I have seen flirting, but I have never had both done to me at the same time. Flustered, it doesn’t register that he still has not told me his name.

  His back is now to me as he turned to talk to Mr. East Coast, who is facing me and has the silliest grin on his face while looking at me. Scrunching the right side of my upper lip up at him I let out a little “huh” and turn around and walk toward Stormy.

  “Ok Storm, I am tired already of the games, men suck.”

  “Reese, girl, that boy is hot for you. Did you see the way he kissed your hand?”

  “Stormy, he won’t tell me his name. He thinks it’s a fucking game. I don’t play games. And the kiss on the hand, as swoonish as it was, still, a game.”

  “You will see Reese, you’ll see,” was all she said as she went back to tending to her customers.

  As the night goes on, I catch him looking at me with that same upturned smile. I haven’t said anything else to him and he simply puts his glass on the bar when he wants it refilled. Mr. East Coast on the other hand is full of talk. I am trying desperately to ignore him but my interaction is still required.

  One thing I love about the bar is that I can find ways to keep myself busy and not pay attention when attention doesn’t need to be paid. At this moment, my attention does not need to be paid to the southern gentlemen that doesn’t want to tell me his name and instead sees it as a game that he has continued to play all night.

  “Ms. Reese, would you come here for a minute?” Mr. East Coast chimes.

  “What can I get for you this time?” A little bit of irritation slips out so I quickly smile.

  “I actually was hoping you could settle a bet between us.” He motioned between himself and the hot guy I still don’t know a name to.

  “Oh yeah? And what kind of bet would that be?”

  “Well, I told my friend here that there was not much that could be done to get you to go out with him.”

  Great, now I am not just a mind game but turning into a real game? Mr. East Coast is right, at this point I don’t want to go out with anyone, especially someone that won’t tell me his name.

  “Hmm, well I think I would have to side with you and say you’re right.” Quick smile at both of them and I swift spin on my heels and I walk off toward the office tossing my towel at Stormy and hollering I was taking a break.

  Pushing open the office door, I am a little more mindful of who might be behind the door this time. Peaking in I see no one is around. I reach under the desk and open the white mini fridge and grab a diet coke. I am thankful Derek stocks them for me as I pop the top and ease myself into the big office chair and pull my legs up toward my chest. I don’t even want to think about what just happened and instead just want my twenty minutes of quiet. No customers, no bitching, no Derek and no hot guy’s eyes following me. I just want to close my eyes and just breathe, just for a minute.

  Knock knock… Knock Knock…

  My eyes pop open and instant irritation sets in. You have GOT to be kidding me. “Come back later,” I yell through the door. Knock… Knock…

  I jump up and go to grab the door handle when it starts to turn. Learning a lesson from smacking Derek in the face earlier I lean away from the door as it pushes open.

  He walks in with a slight resistance but more so with comfort shutting the door behind him. I want to be irritated, but I have a sense of relief that he is standing here.

  “I heard you say you were going on break. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I just wanted to talk to you away from the crowds.” He glanced over his back toward the direction the crowd at the bar would be.

  “Not sure what you really want to talk about. Seems the one question I ask you can’t seem to answer so don’t really have anything else to say.” I bite back.

  “You’re mad because I haven’t told you my name,” he said very matter of fact. No shit Sherlock!

  I glance down at my feet briefly, probably just to avoid looking into the depths of his eyes and becoming putty in his hands.

  “It doesn’t matter if I’m mad or not nor does it matter if you tell me your name. I don’t play these games for a reason,” I say still looking at the ground with my hands half way tucked in my shorts pockets.

  His hand reaches out and touches the end of my chin and with his index finger gently brings my face up to look at his that is now crouching down to see me and showing me a small smile.

  “Why would you think how you feel doesn’t matter? Who said anything about playing games Reese?”

  I just stare, not sure what to say. That calming thing he does is taking over again.

  “I’m not playing games with you. If you thought I was, I apologize it wasn’t meant to seem that way.”

  I can sense the sincerity in his voice. His eyes are a lighter brown and his smile has faded. He looks as if he really is concerned about how I feel.

  His hand drops away from my chin and he stands upright and turns toward the door. The movement causes a wave of his cologne to cross my nostrils and I tense. I know that smell, the grapefruit, the cedar and a hint of tobacco. He reaches for the door but pauses and turns. My eyes shift slowly to him, and he sees the recognition on my face.

  “Zane, my name is Zane Bauer. It’s a pleasure to meet you Reese Miller,” he said with a stoic face and opened the door and walked out.

  How did he know my last name was Miller?

  Chapter 8

  Busy bar means I stay busy keeping them happy and no time to think about what had happened earlier in the night. Zane left immediately after leaving me in the office, or at least I guess he did since I haven’t seen him since. It’s close to closing time and tabs are closing out while the bouncers on duty are shuffling people toward the door.

  Busy with other customers I didn’t notice Mr. East Coast walk up and stand in front of me.

  “You sure do make a lasting impression on people.”

  Looking up to see a big grin on his face, I’m not sure what exactly he is referring to. “Oh yeah, how so?”

  “Well let’s see, you manage to captivate Zane from the minute he walked in this place, you put on the bitchiest persona and the guy still can’t keep his eyes off you. He gets you alone for god knows what all to come back and say he needed to leave and to watch out for you… I’ll say that’s one heck of an impression on a guy like him.” Watch out for me? As in beware or keep watch? What the hell.

  “Guy like him? Oh really, what, a guy aware of his looks, amazingly fit body and a smile that could drop panties? That kind of guy? Sorry if those, doesn’t affect me.”

  So can you really go to hell for lying? Because it is a flat out lie that I haven’t memoriz
ed every muscle that wasn’t covered by clothing and even some that were, or the way his mouth curls to one side when he smiles or the fact that I have wondered what that V thing he MUST have going on looks like….yep going to hell for lying.

  “Wow Reece, you really don’t know do you? You don’t know who Zane is?”

  If a mirror were in front of me I can only imagine the look on my face is one of pure and utter confusion. “What do you mean who Zane is? Am I supposed to know?”

  He lets out a loud laugh that made a few people turn around. Composing himself he looks around to see if anyone was listening to our conversation.

  “Well I would have guessed you would know who he was just from his name, most people do. But I am guessing since he told you his full name, and it didn’t faze you, you really don’t know. Huh, never experienced this before, interesting.”

  By now my expression has gone from confused to, what the fuck are you talking about? I’m normally pretty good with names and faces.

  “I can honestly say, I have no idea who Zane Bauer is except for a guy whom I met tonight who irritated the fuck out of me for too many hours with his games.”

  “Hmm, well Ms. Reece, I think he needs to be the one to tell you more about him. Little piece of advice, drop the attitude with him, he’s not like the other men you meet. His story is well, different and he, yeah that guy, he’s someone you want on your side and for some reason Reece, that guy has something for you.” His head tilted down as he fumbled through his wallet for cash. Reaching out to me he pauses. “I get the hard girl routine, but take my advice, learn when it’s needed and when it’s not. This world is full of whatever it is you have experienced that has you so closed off, but keep closed and a good thing will walk right past you and you won’t even know it. I get it, maybe not your story, but I do get it…” as he handed me three 100 dollar bills. “That’s for you and the girls, you guys did a great job keeping all my people happy and I appreciate it.”

  My mouth at this point is somewhat ajar. I’m both annoyed and grateful. Annoyed for the fact that he thinks he knows anything about me, hard girl routine and grateful for the big fat tip that will make for a great tip out tonight.

  “Are you in a habit of telling people how they should or shouldn’t act when you don’t really know them…” Glancing at the name on his credit card as I hand it back. “Blake Ryan?”

  “No Reece, I wouldn’t say it’s a habit, but I will say that in my line of work being upfront and calling things as they are is what I do. That’s why my clients love me.”

  “Your line of work? So Blake Ryan, what is it that you do?”

  “People Management,” he said with a sly smile.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. “So is Zane one of the people that you manage?”

  Squinting with his mouth pursed and shifted to one side, he doesn’t say a word but turns and is walking toward the front door. He pauses and turns just enough for me to see his words are meant for me “Remember Reece, they are not all alike.” And he continues out the door.

  I glance at the clock as I lock up the office. 3:50 am. Well class today should be interesting. Tank, one of the bouncers is standing at the door waiting to walk me out. The name Tank lends to the size of the guy, which gives me a little sense of security, but only a little.

  He’s holding the door open for me as I step out. The night air is humid but stale and the sound of the nearby train echoes through the empty streets. Keys in hand and purse slung over my shoulder I nod a thank you to Tank and head toward my car. He stands by the door and watches me as he always does.

  Fiddling with my keys keeps me alert but my attention is drawn to the black BMW parked down the street with its parking lights on. This time of night you don’t see many cars and you certainly don’t see expensive ones. As I open the car door, the lights for the BMW turn on and the engine starts.

  My heart begins to race and my palms are sweaty. I can’t seem to get the door open fast enough. I turn quickly to see if Tank is still at the door and he isn’t. SHIT SHIT SHIT. Swinging back around I have my eye on the BMW and finally get the door open and jump in quickly. It’s at this moment that I realize I should have bought the remote start when I bought the car. Keys in hand I’m able to jab the key in and turn the car on and throw the gear in reverse. Hearing my doors lock automatically gives me a little sense of calm but that damn BMW is still sitting there.

  Pulling out of the parking lot I glance up in my rear view mirror to see the BMW pull out behind me. Ok that can’t be good. My initial instinct is to punch the gas and take off, but to where? The BMW doesn’t speed up to catch me as I am driving down the road but seems to be keeping a distance. I realize I am only about three blocks from the police station, so I turn left and head there.

  As I pull into the parking lot the BMW continues past and I see the plates read “BSTRNG” as the car turns to the left on the next street. Coming to a stop in a parking spot in view of the front doors, my hands and head come to rest on the steering wheel feeling the rapid rise of my chest from fear. Eyes closed I take a deep breath in then slowly let it out. It’s been six years since I have felt that fear. A fear that rises up from the depths inside and begins to paralyze me.

  Tap Tap… Tap Tap

  Startled, I jerk my head up and look to the left through the window. Outside holding a flashlight is an officer. Motioning to roll down my window, I hesitate for a minute and comply, but only enough to where he can hear me, never can be too careful.

  “You okay young lady?” He asks, clicking his flashlight on and pointing it into the car.

  The light glides over my face causing me to shield my eyes and purse my face up. Geez was that really necessary? “Yes officer, I am fine, thought someone was following me so I turned into the station parking lot.”

  “Following you huh, happen to get a license plate or anything specific on the car? Why don’t you come into the station for a minute? You look like you saw a ghost.”

  My dad always told me to listen to authorities, especially if I don’t have access to bail money, so I roll up the window, turn off the car and grab my purse as I get out of my car.

  Standing closer to the officer, I could see he was much older than I thought, maybe 50’s but his clean shaven face helped to add a bit of a younger look to him. His bright eyes showed age with the crow’s feet at the corners. It seems lately everyone is starting to look familiar to me, and the officer was no different.

  “I’m Officer Watts and your name young lady?”

  He turns to walk toward the front door and I fall in line behind him and follow. “Reece Miller.” He stopped walking and turns to look at me. The expression on his face was uncertainty, like he knew the name but didn’t know the name should belong to me. His body is facing me with his hands resting on his gun belt. He isn’t saying anything just looking closely at me and it’s giving me the willies.

  “Something wrong Officer?” I question hoping his answer is no.

  He opens his mouth to say something but stops himself. His gaze turns soft with recognition, he steps a bit closer leaning down. “You don’t remember me do you?”

  Nope sure don’t. “No sir, I don’t think I do.” Shaking my head slightly I back up just a bit.

  He twists his pursed lips from side to side thinking about what I just said then backs up and turns around and continues toward the front door of the station.

  I stand there for a split second thinking where I would know him from but nothing came to mind. Officer Watts is standing at the front of the station with the door held open and motioning for me, so I set off and follow him in.

  My arms immediately become chilled so I am rubbing my arms to try and warm up. Officer Watts leads me to a small room that has a long table and two chairs, one on each side of the desk. There is a single window, but from watching crime shows on TV I know it’s a viewing window. I take the chair that puts my back to the wall and in full view of the window. No reason to hide, I have
n’t done anything but pull up into a police station parking lot.

  Officer Watts sits down across from me, pen and pad in hand. “Ok Reece, tell me what you can about the car that was following you.”

  “Ok, um, Black, BMW, not sure the model but it was bigger than a 3 series and was a coupe, um I did see a license plate, it read BSTRNG but that’s all I saw. They didn’t actually do anything to me. It just freaked me out when I left work and he was sitting on the road with his parking lights on and then when I got in my car he started following me. Well I guess he was following me. I don’t know I just panicked.”

  “BSTRNG huh, well that should tell me exactly who owned the car. I’ll be right back ok?”

  Standing, he left the room. The same chills I had when I first walked in returned. I have only ever received bad news being at a police station. Found out my dad was dead, my mom was a good for nothing junkie and well some of the details of that night 6 years ago. So to say I am not a fan of police stations would be accurate. My overwhelming tiredness hits me like a brick. It has got to be at least 4:30 am by now. Well no 9:00 am class for me! Folding my arms over each other and placing them on the desk my head follows to rest on top. My exhaustion has caught up to me as my eyes flutter shut.

  “AAhhheeeemmmm…… Ms. Miller?”

  Well hell that didn’t last long. Lifting my head up and opening my eyes Officer Watts is sitting in front of me again.

  “Sorry about that, it was a late night and well, I’m exhausted I really just want to go home.”

  “I understand, but I was able to find some information so if you can last a little bit longer….”

  Tired but now intrigued, I nod my head in agreement. “So what did you find?”

  “Well the license plate is custom which made it easy to track. However, the name that came up shocked me a little bit.” He pauses and looks at me. “Are you sure you don’t remember me?” His voice concerned, deep and aged. I start to shake my head no when his voice registers.

 

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