by Natalie Ann
“Making me feel good? What’s so strange about that?”
Just that no one had ever said anything even remotely close to that before in her life. “It’s the first I’ve heard it.”
“So tell me why you want to move forward then.”
“I guess if I want to be honest, it’s a lot of the same things you said.”
“I make you feel good about yourself, too?” he asked, reaching out and pulling her close for a hug.
She let him hold her for the moment, feeling his strength and recognizing how much she’d missed it the last few days. “You do. When I’m not beating myself up over being selfish. Or looking for hidden agendas and meanings behind things.”
“You’re so used to being on your own that you think no one wants to be with you,” he said.
“How did you get to be so smart?”
“Damned if I know. And I’m sure all my family would laugh you out of the room if you told them that. They all think just the opposite of me.”
“I doubt that,” she said, snuggling in his arms for the moment. If he was going to hold her, she was going to secretly absorb as much of his strength as she could.
He shrugged. “See, that didn’t take long to say.”
“It doesn’t answer where we go from here.”
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“I don’t want it to be a secret,” she blurted out.
He frowned. “I told you why.”
“You did. But it makes me feel cheap. And…and embarrassed. If you really don’t want anyone to know, then I can’t make you feel that good about yourself, can I?”
She hadn’t wanted to say that to him. Had never planned on it, but somehow her wall was slowly being chipped away.
“I don’t want you to feel that way. I don’t think we should just announce it, either. This is new to me.”
“I understand,” she said. “I’ve dated people I’ve worked with before. Not a boss, but coworkers. I know it can get a little messy at times. Maybe it’s not a good idea,” she said, stepping back a few feet. She had to be out of his arms if she was going to think clearly.
“No, we’ll talk about it some more and make a plan. Figure out where to start and go from there.”
“Sounds reasonable. We should go back downstairs now,” she said, turning to leave. If she stayed, she’d waver some more. Part of her just couldn’t really commit to a decision, always afraid of someone playing her. Always looking for the laughter or judgment behind her back.
“Wait,” he said, pulling something from his back pocket. “This is actually why I called you up here.”
She reached for the envelope, opened it up, read it once, then had to read it a second time. “Ella is giving me a raise?”
“I am. Ella does the paperwork, but it’s from me. I’m glad you told me what you did before this, though.”
“Why?” she asked, still trying to process what was going on.
“Because you know I did it for your hard work, not because I want to be with you.”
Her face flushed. “But don’t you get it? Now she’ll think you’re giving me a raise because of that. Because you like me more, or wanted to get involved with me. Like you’re trying to buy me. I’m not for sale.”
“She won’t think that,” he argued, reaching for her again.
She sidestepped him and started to pace. “Yes, she will. I should have thought of this more. It’s not a good idea. Maybe we should just drop it and be coworkers.”
“No,” he said. “I’ll take the damn raise back then. One has nothing to do with the other. You have to know that.”
“I don’t have to know that.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Okay, I kind of do. Still. It doesn't feel right.”
“Separate the two, Aimee. You do a great job here, and that is why you’re getting a raise. What you and I have, don’t have, want to work on, or anything in between has nothing to do with that piece of paper in your hand.” He held his hand up when she opened her mouth. “You could have easily just told me you didn’t want to pursue anything else with me and I still would have given you that letter. I did it the way I did because if I gave you the letter first and you told me what your decision was, I’d wonder if you’d changed your mind last minute. If the letter forced you to make that decision if you really didn’t want to pursue us. Now I know that isn’t the case.”
“I’d never do that.”
“But I wouldn’t have known and now I do. You aren’t the only one unsure of yourself right now. You aren’t the only one that isn’t sure how everyone is going to handle us being in a relationship. If I’m saying we can tell people, then we can. We just have to figure out how.”
“I don’t want to make it harder on you,” she said.
He ran his hands through his hair. “You aren’t.” He shook his head. “Look at us. This is crazy. We’re both trying to figure out what to do and how to handle things, and not focusing on the real issue.”
“What’s that?”
“Us. Let’s just focus on us. Period. I want to see Sidney. I’ve got to work tomorrow night, but can I take you two to lunch or can I come spend some time with you on your day off?”
It shouldn’t be that easy. But with him looking at her, asking to spend time with her daughter, it took all the outside interference away. “Yes. I’d like that. She would, too. She asked about you yesterday.”
“She did?” he asked, smiling.
“Yeah. She said ‘I want to feel air on my toes in Brody’s car.’”
He laughed. “I knew that car was a chick magnet.”
Push That Issue
Friday night, Aimee was just walking out the door at the end of her shift when Brody overheard a member of the band setting up for the night ask one of his staff, “Who was that woman?”
“She’s our day manager. Is there a problem?”
“No. She looked like someone I knew,” the band member said.
“I’ve got it, Wendy,” Brody said, walking up to the guy. “Anything I can help you with?”
“No, dude. I’m not trying to get anyone in trouble. She just looked like someone I knew. Her hair is longer though, and I only saw her quickly. But that body was smoking and I’d remember it anywhere,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Brody looked the guy over, from the man bun on top of his head, the scruffy beard and dirty white T-shirt, to the stained ripped jeans he was wearing. He held his tongue and just said, “Everyone just blends together in a bar. You know how it goes. What can I get you to drink?”
“Scotch on the rocks.”
Brody lifted his eyebrow. He hated giving free drinks to the bands for the night. They always wanted the expensive shit and forgot this was part of a brew pub. That they should be drinking and promoting the beer.
Rather than argue with a guy who was half his size and smelled like yesterday’s gym socks, Brody got him the drink and decided to chat him up.
“Thanks, dude.” He took a sip, swished it around in his mouth, then licked his lips, making Brody cringe. “You know, I swear she was someone I hooked up with a few years ago. Just wish I got a better look at her face.”
Brody gave the guy a once-over, promising himself to give Cade a talking to about who he signed on to play. They had a reputation to uphold and this guy didn’t even skim the surface.
“Sometimes it’s a trick of the light,” Brody said, getting ready to move away, deciding it wasn’t worth the frustration to keep talking.
“Sandy,” the guy said. “No, no, that wasn’t it. Andi. No, Amy. That was it. I’m pretty sure that was it.” His man bun was bobbing on his head as he nodded rapidly. “Some bartender at a dive I used to play at. I don’t know. You know what it’s like, right, dude? The drinks and the days all blur together, especially the women.”
Brody wasn’t moving from this spot even if a pin was pulled out of a grenade in front of him. “Where did you meet her?” he asked.
“Don’t remember. Some b
ar in South Carolina maybe. I’ve moved around a lot. Guitar players are in high demand. Especially someone as awesome as me.”
“I bet,” Brody said, trying not to roll his eyes. “Wendy, switch sides of the bar with me for now.” He turned back, assuring he was staying put. “So what did you say your name was again?”
“Did I tell you my name? Don’t remember. Anyway, it’s Pick.”
What the hell kind of name was that? Brody took the empty glass that was just placed down on the bar, filled it back up and put it in front of the guy. Time to play the bro card. “Pick? That’s unique.”
Pick laughed, sounding like a character from Dude, Where’s My Car? that he’d watched when he was younger. “A guitar pick.” He stood up and pulled one out of his pocket and laid it on the bar. “I make them on the side. Pretty rad, huh?”
Brody picked it up and looked it over. “Yeah, real rad,” Brody said, laying it back down. Was this guy for real?
Pick grabbed his drink and then turned to go to the stage and finish setting up. It was probably nothing, but Brody couldn’t let it go. When he had a breather he ran to Ella’s office, unlocked the door, and booted up her computer, cursing his luck that he didn’t know her password.
Then he looked around in some cabinets until he found personnel files. Once he had Aimee’s in his hand, he flipped it open, scanning her resume. Almost three years ago: Raleigh, South Carolina. Shit.
He took a deep breath. That still didn’t mean anything. Aimee was a common-enough name and the guy didn’t look like he could remember to change his clothes, let alone a woman he’d spent time with a few years back.
Hooked up with. Those were the words Pick used. And those were the words that made his skin crawl just thinking about it.
By the end of the night, Brody had to admit the band itself was decent, the lead singer more impressive than her mates. Still, the music didn’t make his eardrums bleed and the crowd seemed to enjoy it.
With an hour left before closing, the band was packing up, so Brody brought Pick over another drink.
“So what was her last name?”
“Who?” Pick asked.
“Amy,” he said. At Pick’s blank stare, he said, “Our bartender you thought that you recognized earlier.”
Pick snorted, then wiped his hand under his nose. “I don’t remember. We had a thing going for a few months. The time and faces all cross over. Being on the road, I can have my choice of whoever I want.”
Brody ground his teeth, knowing the guy was bragging now. He couldn’t imagine too many women wanting to get naked with someone so filthy. “So why stay with someone for a few months, then?”
“She was there and available whenever we played at that bar. It’s like a sailor having a woman in every port. Only I have one in every joint.” Pick laughed, then belched loudly. “Sorry, dude. This scotch is top notch.”
“Thanks,” Brody said, walking away. He was making a big deal of nothing. There was no way that loser’s Amy and his Aimee were the same. Not possible. She’d never get involved with someone as nasty at that.
***
Saturday morning, Aimee walked into the bar and started to get ready to open for the day, shocked to see Brody there ahead of her.
“Hey, what brings you in so early this morning?” When she realized no one was around, she walked over and slid her arms around his waist, then kissed him quickly.
“I wanted to see you. I’m realizing this might be the only way.”
“Not the only way, but one of the few.” She moved back when she heard a commotion from the back. The restaurant getting set up for the day, too.
They’d spent Thursday afternoon together for a few hours. Brody taking her and Sidney to lunch and then coming back and sitting through Finding Dory. She’d thought for sure he’d balk, but he didn’t. Just pulled Sidney on his lap and watched the whole thing while Sidney chatted away during all her favorite parts.
Then, when it was time for him to leave, he gave her one hell of a kiss full of promises for their next time together. Whenever that might be.
Yesterday had been interesting working together, the two of them bantering back and forth. Hidden sexual innuendos between them, sly looks and soft touches. More silent promises that she couldn’t wait to take advantage of.
She seriously wanted to stay last night and just be in the bar with him. But Sidney was home and needed her, and her daughter had to come first.
There was no way she was letting a guy pull her away from her responsibilities. She’d find a way to blend the two when she could, but she wasn’t putting her daughter behind any man. Not now at least. Maybe never.
But it was getting hard. She wanted to be with Brody. Spend time with him. Lie next to him at night. Watch him awkwardly play with her daughter. And even then, it was less and less awkward for Sidney and Brody.
“I was thinking maybe we could have breakfast tomorrow,” Brody said.
“Are you going to spend the night at my place?”
He turned sharply. “Are you asking me to? I was thinking about coming to pick you two up since I know Sidney gets up early.”
“Oh. We can do that if you want,” she said, knowing there was disappointment in her tone.
“So you didn’t answer me. Do you want me to spend the night tonight?”
She wanted to say yes, but wasn’t sure it was wise. “You won’t get to my place until late.”
“True.” He was grinning at her. “I’ll go home. It’s fine. I’ll come see you in the morning. Just tell me the best time.”
“How about around ten? That lets you get some sleep.”
“That works,” he said, walking behind her, then leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Or maybe I’ll surprise you at your house anyway tonight. I get the feeling you’d like me to push that issue.”
She turned sharply and went to open her mouth, but instead glanced toward the door the waitress had unlocked a few minutes before. It was pushed open and in walked her past.
“It is you,” Pick said, letting out an annoying laugh then walking forward. He looked like hell. Like someone who was drinking too much, eating too little, and not sleeping at all. There was a greasy haze to his hair and skin that made her want to gag. Her face blanched and she watched as Pick walked toward Brody. “I was right, dude. I just couldn’t remember her last name.”
Figured, Aimee thought, wishing she could evaporate into thin air and wondering how this was going to play out. There was no way to deny a relationship she’d had with him, even if it did reflect poorly on her. Choices in her past were catching up with her again.
“Pick,” she said through clenched teeth. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you leaving last night when I was setting up with the band. I told this big fellow I thought it was you, but couldn’t remember your last name when he asked.”
She turned to look at Brody, trying to read the expression on his face, but he was giving nothing away. Just watching the two of them at the moment.
“It’s me.” Now she wished she hadn’t lingered around last night and got ready to leave before seven like she normally did. But she’d wanted a few more minutes of time with Brody, and for that she was being punished.
“I’m in town for another day,” he said, leaning on the bar. “Want to get together after your shift? You know, catch up on old times.” His breath led her to believe he used a toothbrush as often as a bar of soap.
Her skin crawled. “There’s nothing to catch up on.” She turned to walk away, hoping Pick took the hint and left, too.
But he didn’t. “You aren’t still mad at the way I left, are you? It was a good opportunity. Look where I am today,” he boasted.
A two-bit band setting up play times in bars. Not the glamorous life he’d always bragged he’d get. The one he put above anything else. Including personal hygiene. What was she thinking back then?
“I see where you are now. Good for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work t
o do.”
Pick didn’t take no for an answer, though. “I can’t believe you’re holding a grudge over the fact I didn’t want to be tied down,” he said. “We were young and just having fun. You know that.”
She turned on him fast and snapped. “Tied down! If only you’d put it that way.” She looked at Brody, saw him getting ready to intervene and was going to let him, but decided she needed to handle this. “Brody, is there a place Pick and I can talk privately, so I can end this once and for all?”
He pulled a few keys out of his pocket, flipped through them, and handed one over. “You can use the small office at the top of the stairs.”
She took the key out of Brody’s hand and walked out back, assuming Pick was following. Hoping he wasn’t, but knowing that dreams, like wishes, rarely worked in her favor.
Once they were behind the door, she turned and said, “Leave now and don’t come back. Ever. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want to hear your name. Period. Forget you know me.”
“Darling, I just wanted to have a good time. I don’t get what you’re so up in arms about.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then looked around the room for something to throw. There was nothing, just a desk and chair, so she walked over and sat down.
“A good time. Your idea of a good time and mine are completely different. They were back then, too. I’m not interested. How much clearer do you need me to be?”
“Is this about the fact that I had other women at different bars? Come on, you knew that going in. It’s what us band members do.”
She didn’t know it at the time. She didn’t find out until after, but even then that didn’t hurt. It just added insult to her injury. “Not everyone does. And no, that isn’t why I’m mad.”
He looked confused. “What else did I do? I was partying pretty hard back then. Some things may have slipped my mind.”
Like my last name. She tilted her head and waited to see what else he’d say. When he didn’t acknowledge anything, she stood up and said, “Yep, you’re right. It’s that. I was mad you left so suddenly and found out you were nothing but a cheating, lying piece of scum.”
