by Ashley Munoz
Wilkins and Thompson stopped in front of me and turned off their bikes. Thompson looked like he had seen better days. He was about my age, had long hair that was always tied behind his head, but now it was a tangled mess that sat below his shoulders; he also had a bit of a beard growing. Wilkins was in his late sixties and looked it. He had no hair but a full, scruffy, unkempt beard. They glanced at each other, then Thompson leaned to the side while still on his bike.
"Long time, Jimmy." His brown eyes looked red and irritated.
I nodded at him. "Thompson." Then I looked over and regarded Wilkins. "Old age finally catching up with you, old man?" I smiled, so they knew I was kidding, and hopefully lightened whatever message they were sent to deliver to me.
Wilkins laughed and shook his head. "The ladies don't seem to think so."
Thompson shook his head too, laughing. I didn't want to wait all night for this, so I dug in. "How can I help you, gentlemen? Or rather, how can I help Davis?"
They gave each other a brief look, so fast I couldn't make it out, but I caught it. Wilkins turned off his bike and lowered his legs to keep himself stable. Thompson cleared his bike and turned it off. The sound of his kickstand scraping the asphalt was the only sound between us. He pushed some of his knotted hair off his face.
"Jimmy,” he drew out, while he gripped his leather jacket and looked around. “Nice place you got here. Why not invite us inside, order us a drink?” I glared at him. I didn’t have time for this.
“Cut the shit, Thompson. Why are you here?” I responded dryly. Thompson reared back as if he was offended, and Wilkins shook his head with a low chuckle.
“Why, Mr. Stenson, that wasn’t very kind of you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of us and even, perhaps, keep us dirty vermin out of your fancy bar?” Thompson drawled in a southern tone, while spreading out his arms.
I took a step closer and itched to loosen my tie. Thompson watched my fingers twitch and took half a step back. Maybe he was remembering that time I smashed his cousin’s face in. Or maybe he was recalling the reason I received my beloved pet name, The Fist. Either way, I was glad he backed up. I didn’t need a scene in front of my bar and that’s exactly what this asshole wanted.
Thompson cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “Davis expected you to set up a meeting by now. He's getting tired of waiting for your response."
I narrowed my gaze on the two of them in confusion. "I told Rav to set it up."
The two of them looked at each other again, and Wilkins exhaled while he situated his larger body on his bike.
"You should know better than anyone that when Davis says he's ready to set up a meeting, that means you show up in person and pay your respect. Don't make him go through your damn secretary,” he spat at me, while looking me up and down.
Thompson took a step to the side and drew his hand up to run his fingers over his messy hair. He looked around and took a sidestep back in my direction. “He gave you five fucking years, Jimmy. Now he's not only found your bitch of a wife, but kindly asked for you to meet with him, and you put him off." His face was twisted with anger, like he was ready for a fight.
I waited to respond, getting my anger totally in check. My hands were casually in my pockets as I leaned forward.
"I meant no disrespect. It was an honest misunderstanding. But let's be clear; I didn't ask Davis to find Lisa. I am thankful that he used his resources to aid me, but I didn't ask for the favor.” I zeroed in on Thompson. “And, if Davis is that worried about this meeting, then why the hell didn't he straddle his Dyna and ride down here himself?"
Wilkins grimaced at my tone and Thompson began breathing through his nose so hard that I thought he might hyperventilate. He was pissed, and obviously working on keeping his own anger in check.
"Next week: The Brass, nine p.m. Don't be late," Thompson threw at me as he got back on his bike and started it up. Wilkins followed and gave me a hesitant look, like he wasn't sure what to do. I nodded at him and watched as the two of them drove away.
I let out a sigh once they were gone, and looked around. Thankfully, Ramsey had missed that. This part of me was something I never wanted her to see. I knew for sure if she ever did, she'd abandon any notion of something happening between us. Not that she was showing any interest so far, but I had hopes that she’d come around.
I walked back towards the restaurant, intent on grabbing dinner for Ramsey. I realized that she had forgotten it after she drove off. I went into the kitchen to find Rav tying up two plastic bags. “I wrapped up the ‘Tuesday night’ special for your lady friend, boss.” Rav handed the bags to me. “A quart of basil-tomato soup and gouda grilled cheese on sourdough. I thought you might want to ask her to eat with you tonight, but when she left, I assumed maybe you’d drop it off,” Rav finished with a sly smile on his face, and I laughed.
“Smooth, and very perceptive. What made you think all that?” I asked, while reaching for a small piece of pita bread that was left out from an earlier meal. Rav laughed while reaching over the counter for some green garnish. “I have eyes.”
I grabbed another piece of bread to evade answering and shook my head at him while grabbing Ramsey’s dinner. I considered bringing up the interaction that just took place in the parking lot, but reconsidered when I thought of what might happen if Rav brought it up to someone. Seemed Davis wasn’t particularly happy about going through our third party to communicate. I left the restaurant and secured the meal in my backpack, and headed to Belvidere.
While I rode, I thought back on how I had started the day with absolutely no plans on pursuing anything with Ramsey. I had a plan. We would not be in the same space at the same time, she would not share my office, I would not invite her to dinner. But just like always with Ramsey, as soon as I saw her, I buckled. She looked like sin in a church, walking in with skin-tight jeans and high heels. Her lips were blood red and God, it looked good on her.
Her hair was down, but I still looked for the braid, and it drove me crazy all day trying to find it. I knew that she had at least one somewhere in her hair. I even began to doubt how perceptive I thought I was about her, until lunchtime. I saw her flip her hair and there it was, a small little braid tucked under it all. I fist-pumped the air because it proved that I knew something about Ramsey that probably no one else did, or very few other people did; she wore at least one braid every single day. She didn’t even know that it was my favorite thing about her when I first saw her.
I was two seconds away from running my hands through her hair while I looked over figures with her, but I could only imagine what she would have done if I did. The idea of her hair fanned out behind her on my bed was playing through my mind, and I lost all sense of time and direction. I wanted her. The responsible and grown-up part of my brain was scolding me, telling me that I didn’t even know her, but the immature and very lonely part of me was screaming for me to take her and make her mine.
Before I knew it, I was already pulling into Belvidere and onto Ramsey’s street. I took in a few calming breaths, hoping it wouldn't bother her that I showed up after she had already requested a raincheck from me. I parked my bike, pulled the bag of food out of my backpack, and walked up to her front door. I rang the doorbell and waited.
Carla opened the door, wearing a black and silver tracksuit with a small beanie on her head. Her eyes were wide when she took me in, but I could see dark circles under her eyes.
I pushed away my concern and smiled wide.
“Hey, Miss Carla, sorry to show up unexpected, but Ramsey forgot her dinner at the restaurant.”
I held up the bag for emphasis, and Carla’s whole face lit up. “Jimmy come in! Ramsey was threatening me with some type of meat that I know she doesn’t know how to cook.”
I walked past her, chuckling. I loved her mom. That concern came back and shot through me, bringing with it an ache, one that mirrored the pain of losing my mother. Ramsey didn’t deserve to lose such a wonderful mother, it w
asn't fair. I walked over to the table, trying to swallow the lump in my throat that had started to develop every time I thought of Carla leaving Ramsey too soon. I set down the bag down on the kitchen table, while looking around for Ramsey. I didn’t see her in the kitchen or dining room, which must have meant that she was in her bedroom. I was about to turn around and head home when Carla rushed up behind me and grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards a chair.
“Sit, sit, stay. Eat with us.”
I smiled at her, but had no intention of staying. Then again, Ramsey mentioned the raincheck because she needed be with her mom and since she was here, maybe she wouldn't mind?
“No. Thank you so much, Carla, but I have to get home.” I didn't want to assume that Ramsey wanted me here, regardless of how tempting it was.
Just as I finished talking, Ramsey walked out. Her hair was piled on top of her head with loose strands falling around her face, and she was wearing a tank with tiny pajama shorts. I had to sit back down for a second to be sure that no one saw how much the sight of Ramsey all dressed down affected me.
She stopped mid-step at the sight of me, confusion and surprise marring her face as her beautiful eyes shot up in surprise, then her eyebrows drew together a second later.
“Uh, Jimmy, what are you doing here?” she asked while pulling her shorts further down, as though she was trying to stretch the fabric to cover more of her gorgeous legs.
Oh nothing, I just thought we could have dinner together after all. Excuse my very persistent behavior. And maybe before we eat, I could walk you back to your room and we could get better-acquainted?
"Jimmy?" Ramsey had taken a step closer, her eyebrows were hugging her forehead as she questioned my silence. Shit.
I looked down at the plastic bag then held it up again. “You forgot your dinner,” I declared with a small smile. I waited for her to light up, like she did before. Or to walk towards me and smile. But she just stood there, not saying anything. Carla spoke up and broke the tension between us.
“Well, Jimmy, that was so sweet of you to bring it all this way. Will you join us for dinner then?”
I almost accepted this time, almost pulled out a chair and sat down, but I wanted to wait for Ramsey to agree with her mom that I should stay. I waited, one second, then two. Ramsey stood watching me, then looked around the room, but she didn't encourage me to stay. I should have just left her alone tonight. It wasn't about a raincheck, she just didn't want to have dinner with me.
I messed with the sleeves of my dress shirt. “Sorry, I can’t, but I hope you ladies enjoy your evening. Ramsey, I will see you tomorrow at work.”
I smiled at her and turned to leave. I didn’t see Ramsey move towards me, but once I was to the door, she appeared behind me to walk me out.
She had her arm across her chest, holding onto her elbow. She was looking at the floor as we moved from the entryway, through the door, and outside.
“Thanks for bringing this, and …um…”
She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, trailing off, like she wanted to say something else. I stopped and turned towards her to try and encourage her question, but when I looked at her face, and saw the red on her cheeks, all I could focus on was how that heat traveling up her body had to start somewhere, and I wrestled against wanting to discover exactly where. She just rejected you, idiot.
She wasn't saying anything else, so I finished up our conversation. “It was no problem. Enjoy your dinner, Rav packed it for you.”
My voice came out harsh as the sting from her rejection started to hit. She had both arms crossed and her eyes darted to mine as my comment landed.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to see you for dinner, I just had to get back to my mom. She’s my priority right now. Nothing else, no one else, just her. She has to come first and be my whole world.”
I heard what she was saying—no dating until her mom got better, or worse, her mom passed on. Either way, the living part was solely dedicated to her mom and only her mom. She was also ignoring the fact that she had the opportunity to have dinner with both her mom and me tonight, and yet, she still didn't want to.
I smiled and turned back towards my bike before saying goodbye. “I understand, Ramsey. Please let me know if there is any way I can make things easier on you at work with your mom.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond. I got on my bike and drove off. Ego bruised, and pride pricked, I inhaled the cold air as I put some distance between Ramsey's house and myself. I needed to let this go; get over this crush or whatever the hell this thing was.
I received an email before work, requesting that I spend my day in Belvidere at Sip N Sides. It felt like a slap in the face because Jimmy had already mentioned that he would see me at work today. That was, until I stood there like a silent idiot, not inviting him to eat dinner with us, then spouted off some bullshit about why I didn’t. I slightly hated myself for what I told him because obviously, I liked him and wanted him to like me back, and be asked out to dinners and brought flowers, and the whole thing. But how on earth could I possibly be happy and dating someone while my mom was dying? And what if he had illegal stuff going on? I didn't want to get mixed up in anything.
I closed my eyes and let out a strained breath. I made the right decision to tell him to back off; my mom needed to come first, no matter what. Still, it would have been nice to continue to be his friend, but based off the look on his face last night and the new arrangement this morning, it didn’t seem like I was going to have a choice.
I walked back to the closet and reached for a regular white, cotton t-shirt to pair with not-so-tight-that-they-might-explode blue jeans.
I pulled my hair into a simple French braid, dragged out some ballet flats, and checked the mirror. My jeans were still skinny, but not plastered, and no lipstick today. I kissed Mom on the way out, desperate to ignore her glares since last night. She was clearly mad at me. I thought back to how badly last night ended, not just with Jimmy but her too.
I walked back inside after Jimmy left and grabbed the plastic bag off the table.
"You know, Theo told me that Jimmy hasn't dated anyone in a really long time. It was a big deal for him to put himself out there like that," my mother threw at me from the kitchen while she hastily grabbed two bowls. I stayed silent, knowing it was pointless to try and argue.
"That boy drove all the way over here to bring you dinner, and the least you could have done is invite him to eat with us." She had made her way to the table now. I bit back my retort about him driving all the way over here, when our house was on his way home. She cut a cold glare in my direction before continuing.
" I won't be here for much longer, darling. I want to see you happy, and I think you could have something with him, but now we'll never know because of how rude you were to him."
Her dramatic tirade had finally stopped, or so it seemed. Silence filled the room as we took out the containers of soup and grilled cheese. Finally, I braved speaking.
"Momma, I don't want to date right now. Especially not my boss, and especially not someone who has kids and drama. It's just too much for me now."
"No, it's not. I know you better than anyone, and I know when you're just being stubborn. You two have a spark, a light that others can see, but you're too blind,” my mother scolded while she pushed around her soup.
I reached for my water glass and took a sip, to help clear away some of the words I wanted to scream at her. I realized it was pointless to tell her how she should be my priority or how little money we currently had in the bank, and how me not screwing up my job was a big deal. Or how my heart was in no position to be handed over to someone who might damage it. So, I shut my mouth and ate my dinner. Eventually, she gave up on trying to eat any of the food, and just went to bed without so much as another word to me.
I knew she hoped that I would apologize to Jimmy and try and go out with him, but I wasn't going to. Sucks for her, but I wasn't going to fling around romance and be happy while s
he was puking up her guts in the bathroom. It wasn’t happening, and she was just going to have to deal.
Once I pulled into the barely-kept-together parking lot of Sip N Sides, a vast change from the gorgeous parking lot I had pulled into yesterday, I slid out and trudged in. I was in a crap mood and I needed to get out of it, Theo deserved better. So, while I made my way to his office, I decided to focus on happier things. I gave the brown door in front of me a soft knock and waited. Nothing happened. I knocked again and heard a small cough, but still, no one was opening. I eyed the doorknob and wondered if I should just go in, when Theo opened the door and gave me a big smile.
“If it isn’t my prettiest employee!” he practically yelled, loud and happy.
Weird.
“Hey, Theo, what’s going on?” I asked, a little confused. I figured today would be weird for Jimmy and me, not me and Theo.
He opened the door a bit wider, and I noticed his office was much bigger than Jimmy’s. It had a large oak desk with an old computer perched in the corner, along with a mess of papers scattered across it. There were two worn green leather chairs in front of the desk, and old blue carpet on the floor. It was outdated, to say the least. I crept forward and sat down in one of the green chairs while Theo settled across the desk in his own chair.
He cleared his throat and answered loudly, “Well, I was just thinking how nice this arrangement is. I originally wanted you to work here, and now here you are. I have never had a daughter, Ramsey, but I feel like if I did, she would be like you.”
My brain was fried. It must be because what I just heard was the equivalent of a madman rambling off nonsense on a street corner for some drugs. I fixed my stare on him, watching his body. There was no shaking or jitterbugs, no random nose swipes or ear pulls. He didn’t seem like he was on anything, but still, he was being weird.
