by Emily James
Will
I'm doing laundry and considering my earlier hug with Amber, and how much I liked being close to her. I wonder what made her cry and why she’s got some dude’s name tattooed across the back of her neck. She’s too smart to go get labelled by a guy, it makes no sense. It’s quite some neck, though; slim and lean, skin that’s soft and creamy like an ice cream sundae; my mouth waters. I slam the machine door and hit start. I have got to stop thinking about her this way, particularly since she slammed me down when I suggested a date. But I like her and she looks like she could use a friend. I'd like to get a little closer than just friends, the more I know about her the more she seems… different. I don't know, there’s two sides: vulnerable, sweet and caring; as well as, smart, beautiful and strong. It makes me want to take care of her, like she seems to do for everyone else.
I text Cody and tell her I'm off to Amber's.
Shit. I should have said Patrick's, she’ll pick up on that. Unable to delete it I re-text: I'm off to see Patrick.
* * *
Patrick greets me at the door, still in his work suit. “Will, how’s it going? Main house is taking shape, huh!” He looks happy to be home and he invites me inside with a friendly slap on the back.
“Yeah, I’m good. We got the Woodrow Development contract upstate.” I beam, still not believing it. “It will tie in with the completion of the main house. Speaking of which, the guys are ready to come drag down the external wall next week and then we’ll start laying the brick.”
Patrick nods his understanding and his eyes widen at my good news.
“You’re making great progress, both here and with the business. I knew you could do it. This calls for a celebration.” I hear Roxy and Amber in the den, chatting and giggling, and my ears prick. “Girls, I'm making coffee,” Patrick hollers.
I accept the offer and Patrick busies himself filling the coffee maker.
Amber walks in first and freezes in the doorway when she spots me. Roxy crashes into her, pushing Amber further in my direction.
“Um, hi,” Amber says, flushing a delicious shade of pink. It does strange things to me and I consciously close my mouth. Roxy shoves past her and sits at the island. Amber follows and sits next to her, opposite me.
I get my thoughts in Amber—I mean, in order and greet them, “Ladies.” It’s the best I can manage and I pull at my hair in frustration. I take a seat at the island and try to think of something interesting to say. I self-consciously comb my hair back into place with my hand—it was windy on the way over here and Amber keeps looking me over. I’m not sure if I look ‘well dodgy’ which is apparently an English term for not so good that Cody keeps throwing out there, but I’m self-conscious nonetheless. I catch Amber looking again and meet her eyes. She smiles one of those bashful, embarrassed smiles that she’s so good at.
Patrick turns and puts a steaming cup of coffee in front of me and I’m glad at least he hasn’t noticed that I’m a liability around his daughter.
Roxy uncrosses her legs and moves to stand. “Not for us, Mr Scott. We are going to head out shopping. Your daughter needs serious help with her wardrobe.”
I thought she'd said they were going shopping before Patrick arrived. So, she was making an excuse not to come out with me for lunch. Even though I am a little hurt, I know I need to move at Amber’s pace.
“She looks pretty good from where I’m sitting,” I say.
Patrick stunned, stops pouring the coffee in his cup. I backtrack, “I mean, for a girl and all.” Shit. “Not that she looks like a boy. I mean, I reckon she’d look good in anything, or nothing at all.”
Patrick shakes a thought from his head and ignores my thick ass comments.
“Yeah, Amber, you’d look good in anything or nothing at all,” Roxy purrs, creasing up.
I need to get my swag back before I lose all my pride.
“Amber needs weather specific stuff. I’m sick and tired of all her moaning about being cold. She also needs better gym get up for ass-kicking, and my birthday’s coming up in a few weeks, so, Mr Scott, can she come party, pretty please?’ She bats her eyelashes at Patrick, who takes a seat at the island, deep in thought at her suggestion.
Amber twists her necklace around her finger anxiously. She looks concerned by Roxy’s suggestion of a night out and I'm not surprised—Roxy’s fierce.
“You didn’t say it was your birthday coming up. I’m not really much of a party girl, Roxy. I’m not sure I’d be all that fun.” Her voice is stilted with awkwardness.
“Honey, you should go, you’re twenty-one-years-old. You should be having the time of your life. By the look of this place, I’d guess you spend all your time cleaning it. Between the cleaning, kick boxing—by the way—good shout, Roxy,” Patrick pauses to send Roxy a thumb’s up, “and the dog across the road, I worry you’re alone too much.” Patrick looks thoughtful. “I could try cut back on work, plan some leave? If Chicago wasn’t such a liability right now, I’d be here full time.”
“It’s fine, Dad, really. I like being by myself.” Amber frowns and looks at her dad. She worries about hurting his feelings. “I’m not really by myself very often, these guys are always over and I thought I’d get a job, meet some people.”
“A job, are you sure you’re ready?” Patrick asks with concern furrowing his brows.
Roxy looks equally shocked. No wonder I thought she was all precious when this is the reaction just for wanting a job. I feel like I ought to stick up for her, she looks… dejected.
“I know of a job,” I say, excited, and everyone turns to face me. “Doug’s wife is about to have her baby real soon. She’s like way out here.” I gesture with my hands and then realise how dumb I look. I move my hands from my air protrusion and clear my throat. Amber sniggers, so I flash a smile. It’s not like she hasn’t worked out I’m a dumbass. “Anyway, she’ll be going on maternity soon so, if you get it, she could show you the ropes.”
Caught up in the excitement, Amber grins and says, “I’ll take it.”
“Hadn’t you better ask what it is first?” Roxy interjects.
“You’ll probably need an interview,” Patrick suggests. “I could find you something at the office?”
“Thanks, Dad, but, I should probably figure this one out on my own, something will come up.” Amber offers her dad a small smile which he proudly returns.
“It’s called The Roadhouse, it’s a bar downtown, does the best sweet potato fries and caramel dip this side of the moon,” I swoon. Can a guy swoon? Hell yes, when fries are that good, a guy swoons.
“That’d be perfect,” Amber says, looking happy as she jigs a little on her toes.
“That’s settled then, I’ll call Sophie. She’ll be stoked to have some help.”
“Do you even know how to wait tables and pour up some pitchers?” Roxy questions her.
Amber looks on blankly and nibbles her lower lip.
“It’s okay. I’ll explain it on the way. If you worked in one bar, you can figure out any. But don’t think you’re off the hook. You and I, Boland-Scott, are going to party!”
“Hear, hear,” Patrick offers, smiling. “I’ll even throw in the cash and a driver; to be sure you both get home safe.”
I hear a flush and Cody bounds down the stairs. Little madam, she's supposed to be at Mrs Stevens.
“Will!” She hollers and runs up to me for a hug. “Amber and Roxy are going to the mall. Can I go to? Can I, can I, can I? I already did my chores.”
I sigh, taking out my phone. “Cody, you aren’t even supposed to be here. Mrs Stevens will be going out of her mind.”
“I already told her I was coming to see Amber, chill.”
“Chill?”
“Yes, chill. It's what all the British kids are saying.”
I shake my head. I’ve heard her in her room practicing her British-isms. “I'm not sure, Cody,” I shake my head.
“Well they do, ‘cos Amber told me they do.”
Amber's watching us conv
erse back and forth like a tennis match. I grin.
“I mean, I'm not sure you can go to the mall. Roxy and Amber might want to grab a drink or party or whatever, they might not want a kid in tow.”
“Will, I’m nearly eight. Quit treating me like a baby.”
Amber looks at me questioning, like she’s about to talk. Roxy gets there first.
“Well, hell, I don't mind if she comes. She’s kind of cute and I might need her help strong arming Amber out of her Converses. Which, B.T.W., stink!”
Cody giggles a fit of laughter. “And those Santa design socks? We’re in February,” Cody snorts as she laughs. “She needs our help alright.”
Damn-it!
Amber raises a questioning eyebrow toward me, so I work my magic at changing the subject by pulling out my wallet. “Okay. Do you a deal. Here's a hundred bucks.”
Cody’s eyes light up like the Vegas strip.
“You buy Sophie a baby shower gift with, say, eighty of them and you can keep the change, deal?”
Cody tackles me excitedly. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” She yells, cutting off my circulation with a squeeze.
“You sure you're okay with this?” I ask Amber.
“Of course, it's fine,” Amber says and musses Cody’s hair.
“That's settled, then.” Patrick claps his hands. “Girls, I got to do some work. Shall we meet at The Roadhouse at six, for a bite to eat and to check the place out, we can go onto the game from there? Roxy can show you where it is, Amber.”
“Sure. I'll just go change,” Amber says heading upstairs.
“I’m coming with. I like, really got to pee,” Roxy tells us all. “Too much information?” She glances at me. “Sorry, too much time with a Brit, they like totally over share bathroom habits.” Roxy laughs as Amber shakes her head and tries to impersonate Roxy.
“Well, like, at least I can, like, say a whole sentence, without like, saying ‘like’ a whole lot at times.” She sniggers as she and Roxy bicker up the stairs. Her crappy attempt at American makes me snigger along with her. I turn to see Cody studying me.
Patrick heads into the den, a second later I hear him talking on the phone.
“So, how long have you been here?” I ask Cody.
“Not long, an hour maybe.”
“Cody,” I say exasperated. “How in the hell can I take care of you when I don't even know where you are?”
“Oh Will. Chill. Chill. Will. Mrs Stevens would have told you to look for me at Amber’s.” She wiggles her fuzzy caramel brows at me and smiles knowingly.
“Just text next time, please?”
“Will, you need me as your look out. I'm your eyes and ears,” she says and winks. When did she start winking?
I consider this. “Did she say anything?”
“Oh, she said a lot of things.”
“About me?” I whisper.
“Maybe,” she says smugly.
“Cody. Help a brother out.”
“I'd love to tell you all the details, Will, I really would. But I'm so hungry. I can't even afford Taco Bell,” she says clutching her stomach.
“Fine, five bucks,” I say, looking through my wallet again. I'm too slow as Cody swipes a ten.
“Hey,” I whisper shout.
“Do you want to know or not? It's juicy.”
Rock—me—hard place.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “But, you're doing the dishes this week.”
“Deal,” Cody smiles. “She said you're—nice.” She pronounces nice ni-i-i-c-e.
“Nice?”
“Yep—nice.” She grins, the edge of her mouth almost at her pointy little ears.
“What else?” I’m on the edge of my seat, leaning in.
Footsteps tap down the stairs and Cody locks her mouth, throwing away the key.
“You should start thinking about asking her to the Gala. She'll need time to plan her dress,” Cody tells me as the footsteps close in on our conversation.
“Gala? Who’s going to a Gala?” Roxy asks.
I choke on my near cold coffee. “Gala—apples—get some apples, green ones, please, while you’re out”
Cody sniggers, my eyes beg a reprieve. “Well, that’ll be another five bucks, Will.”
I pull out my even lighter wallet again.
* * *
The door chimes as I walk in The Roadhouse. Pete is sitting on a bar stool chatting with Doug and Sophie, and I head over to join them. Sophie is dressed in black, the informal uniform of the bar, and the guys are wearing this season’s Bengal shirts.
I greet them all, order a beer, and pull up a stool; the others aren’t here yet.
Sophie relaxes against the backrest of the barstool. Her face is shiny with perspiration and her calves are hitched up on Doug’s lap while he rubs her swollen feet. I guess she just got off work.
“Sophie. Thanks for talking to your boss about the job. Amber should be here soon, so I can introduce you two.”
I’ve known Doug and Sophie all my life. We grew up on the same street. They’ve been together since forever and are the type of people that would help anyone out.
“Oh, Will, soon as I said to George you’d vouched for her she was hired. God knows I need to finish up working soon. Not sure my fat ankles are going to be able to hold up my fat ass for much longer, anyhow.”
“Aw baby, you ain't fat, you cuddly.” Doug looks at Sophie adoringly.
“Cuddly? You think I’m cuddly? That’s just another word for fat!”
Sophie stands down from the chair and puts her feet back in her slip-on shoes. “I can’t believe you think I’m fat. I’m headed to the bathroom, because your child, the one I am nurturing and growing, is pressing on my bladder, for the fifth time this hour. I suggest that if you don’t want to sleep on the couch tonight, you get me some chips, to say sorry.” Sophie storms off toward the bathroom, shaking her head at his audacity.
“Pregnancy hormones…” Doug rolls his eyes. “Hey George, can I get two bags of chips over here please, before Sophie divorces me?”
“Sure thing, Doug,” George, the owner of the bar heads over, and hands Doug his chips. “I made the same mistake at lunchtime, said she looked tired, like she could do with sitting down, taking the weight off. She told me I could do with cutting back on the French fries myself.” George shakes his head, “I mean, come-on, this is pure relaxed muscle.” George pats his round belly and laughs.
“Thank the Lord we only got four more weeks ‘til Doug junior is here.”
“Hear, Hear,” George agrees.
Sophie comes back from the bar, kisses Doug, and takes up her seat again, putting her feet back in his lap.
The door chimes and Cody, in her bright red coat, marches in. Amber and Roxy follow behind, all loaded up with shopping bags. I offer up my stool and Cody hops in it. Amber has changed her clothes and is wearing a black, mid-thigh winter coat with a huge, navy coloured, polo neck underneath. It swamps her tiny frame and I wonder if this is the ‘help’ Roxy was referring to.
“Everybody, this is Amber, Patrick’s daughter.” As if summoned, Patrick walks into the bar and joins us. “Amber, here, is from England, so y’all may not understand her, but she’s working on her accent,” I wink at Amber and put my arm around her shoulder in a friendly gesture so she knows I’m only teasing. As I do so, I brush Amber’s neck and catch sight of a white stick on plaster.
“Hey, what happened to you?” I meet Amber’s eyes and Patrick steps forward with concern.
Amber squirms under the spotlight.
“It’s no big deal, I-um had a tattoo. I mean a cover up of one I didn’t like anymore.” She smiles reassuringly at Patrick and angles her head. “It was a really nice place, super clean.”
I glance across to Patrick who looks surprised like he didn’t know she had a tattoo in the first place.
Amber turns to me. “I didn’t take Cody in with me. Roxy took her to get ice cream. It was just something I needed to do.” Amber
nibbles the corner of her mouth nervously.
“Can I see it?” I ask, “If you don’t mind?”
“Sure.” Amber slides her long hair over her right shoulder and adjusts her polo neck down, “You might have to help me with the tape,” she says to no one in particular, but I get there first because I’m standing closest, and I’m quicker.
I tease the tape away from her skin slowly, hoping that I don’t hurt her.
Patrick inches forward, a nervous sheen at what I am about to uncover coats his face.
I pull down the dressing just enough to see the design. Each of the small vertical letters is now transformed into a small white, almost pearlescent, stemmed flower, surrounded by stars.
“Your mother loved lilies. It’s beautiful. Does it hurt?” Patrick asks Amber.
“It doesn’t hurt, just stings a bit.”
Patrick’s phone rings, and he excuses himself to go outside to answer it.
“It's beautiful. It suits you,” I say, thrilled she got rid of that loser’s name.
“Well, after she walked out the pawn shop, I thought she was going to take forever, but they did it real quick,” Cody says.
“Pawn shop?” I ask her.
“Y’all are sitting up front over there,” Sophie interrupts and points near the window. I store the question about the pawn shop for later. “Are you joining us, Soph?” I ask.
“Hell, yes, I am famished,” Sophie says finishing off her second bag of chips.
“This here is Sophie, and behind the bar is George, your new boss,” I tell Amber.
“Boss—you mean I can have the job?” Amber looks at Sophie, and then to George, who both nod. Amber beams a perfect toothy smile that crinkles up her eyes.
“Come by Monday at noon, I’ll show you the ropes and then I can take some much needed maternity leave.”
“Thank you. I mean, really thank you so much for taking a chance on me. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
“It’s all down to Will, here. He said you’d be perfect.” George returns Amber’s smile.
We all head over and join Pete, Roxy and Cody at the table where they’re already looking at menus. I already know what I’m having.
