by Mia Moore
Her mouth dropped open and her hand went to autopilot taking it from him. “Hello?”
“Brie, I’d like to apologize for my behavior at lunch. I realize I had no right to grill you the way I did. It’s just that, I care about Chris. You showing up out of the blue and him buying you the clothes and all…well of course I’d be suspicious.”
Her hand gripped the phone so hard that her knuckles were white. “Uh huh?”
“Chris is a nice guy and he’s wealthy. Of course, I want to protect him, you understand that don’t you?” The tone of his voice was softer than it’d been earlier when they’d met.
“Sure.” She still wasn’t sure that she liked him any better than before, but at least he’d called to say he was sorry.
“I’m not saying that I won’t be keeping an eye on you, because I will. I really care for Chris.”
“Hey Michael, guess what? I like him too. I’m going to be keeping an eye on you as well.” She handed the phone back to Chris. There was a look of hope in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.
Chapter 12
“So, you’re good with Michael? I’m sorry that all this happened Brie.” Chris took a seat next to her after saying goodbye to Michael. He flashed a sheepish grin at her and continued. “This is the downside of being filthy rich. When I make new friends, everyone gets immediately suspicious.”
Her lips rose in a small smile watching him. Poor little rich guy.
He patted her hand and pulled his head back regarding her with surprise. “Hey girlfriend! Guess what? You actually stood up to Michael just then. He’s a tough-ass New Yorker and you put him in his place…all that 'I’m keeping an eye on you too'.”
Her eyes widened and she blinked. Yeah. That was true. Michael had been like a drill sergeant at lunch. Normally that kind of self confidence from a successful guy like him would have had her dumbstruck. But she’d given it back to him, just like Chris had said. Her eyebrows and chin rose higher and a soft laugh erupted from her throat. Yeah, take that Mr. Hotshot Mayor’s office guy.
Lunch had been a disaster but the walk outside, even though hurried, had been nice. And like he’d said at lunch, her time with him was up in April. If she was ever going to survive in this city, she’d better get out more and get a feel for the way things worked. Hell, everything out there seemed to go at warp speed. She’d better learn to swim in those waters.
“Chris?”
He squeezed her hand and the look on his face showed? Pride? He was proud of her? “Yes, Brie?”
“I hope that things between you and Michael work out.” S he smiled and continued. “I think I need to expand my horizons, get out for a walk at least once a day. Would it be alright with you if I stopped ordering groceries on line and actually went out to shop? I’d like the exercise and…kind of get used to the city.”
His head tilted to the side as he gazed at her. “Are you sure?” He turned and looked at the archway. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a good idea, but New York isn’t Mumford. It can be harsh and more than a little intimidating.”
Her gut clenched but she held her head high. “I’m sure. I mean, I’ll map out the routes to the grocery store and maybe a park or two. It’s not enough to read and discuss current events with you. I need to get out and interact with other people. How else will I survive when I leave here?”
He turned and shook his head, his eyes soft and wide staring at her. “But Brie, there’s no rush. Leave when you feel ready. We can always extend the terms of our agreement.”
She smiled but the knot of fear she’d felt earlier when she thought she’d have to leave persisted. This could all end tomorrow and then where’d she be? No, it was better to start preparing herself now. Starting tomorrow.
****
Just after eleven the next morning Brie stepped out of the townhouse. The day was like the one before, overcast and cold. Her feet briskly clapped the hard pavement, walking the eight blocks to a grocery store that specialized in organics. Before Chris, she’d never given a thought to how vegetables were grown or the way meat was produced. She had to admit that there WAS more flavor in the food and she had more energy than when she’d lived in Mumford.
She held her head high, wearing the coat and boots that Chris had outfitted her with. That was another thing he’d grilled into her head that morning. “Act confident like you’re a New Yorker. If they smell fear, they’ll move in on you like a pack of dogs. Survival Baby, that’s what it’s all about.”
She brushed by the people coming towards her, never making eye contact. That was another thing he’d warned her about. “There are all kinds of weirdoes in the big city, but New Yorker’s don’t give then a second glance. It’s a given that you’ll run into some doozies but ignore them. Actually, don’t even look at them or anyone else.”
She risked a peek at a couple of guys wearing trench coats that flapped around their calves as they walked. The taller of the two had green hair, slicked back to reveal a high forehead and olive complexion. His companion, gesturing wildly, grinning up at him sported a head of hair cut short and dyed orange. He was like a peacock, his body language screaming ‘look at me!’
A small grin curled her lips and she shook her head, continuing on. Beside her, cars rushed by, honking and squealing their tires. Everyone was in such a hurry, going somewhere to meet someone, all of it terribly important. An elderly woman in a fur coat, clutched a phone to her ear striding towards her and brushing her shoulder as she passed.
“Watch where yer goin’!” The snarl and raised voice was a jolt of reality that wiped the grin off Brie’s face.
She clutched her purse tighter to her side and marched on, keeping a wide berth of other pedestrians. Only a few more blocks and she’d be there. She could do this. Hell, she had to get used to this if she planned on staying, although there WAS something to be said for having groceries delivered.
“Yo Mama.” A black man leaning next to the doorway of a tall building, flashed a mouthful of white teeth as she passed. His eyes took in everything from the heels of her boots to the mop of dark hair streaming behind her in the breeze.
For just a second, her breath caught in her throat and she looked down at the pavement hurrying her step. She glanced over her shoulder only to find him checking out another woman coming after her. She shook her head and kept going.
Finally the sign of the organic grocery store, leafy green vegetables forming ‘Home Grown’, appeared. She pushed the door and entered. Oh my God, it was so small compared to the stores back home. Packages of flour, grains, cereals formed walls, creating corridors way too narrow for a shopping cart. This was just as well as there wasn’t a shopping cart to be seen. She picked up a basket and headed for the vegetables, neatly displayed in refrigerated bins. Her hand rummaged in her pocket for the list she’d made, enough food for the next two days. The feather and figurine were still there. Saying a silent prayer of thanks, she examined a bunch of carrots and tossed them into her basket.
Fifteen minutes later, she stood before the check-out, her arm aching from the weight of the food she’d placed there. A matronly, Hispanic clerk smiled and started scanning the items she placed on the counter. At the last item the total flashed in green numbers. Brie’s jaw dropped and her eyes darted to the items. Almost a hundred dollars? Oh my God, that was almost triple what she’d have paid at home.
“Please put that on Chris Jones' account. He called the store earlier and authorized me to make the purchase.” She smiled but there was an uneasiness in her stomach.
The older woman’s eyebrows knitted together and she reached under the counter for a notebook. She flipped to the last page and her eyes rose to meet Brie’s. “Name and ID please.”
Brie fumbled in her purse until her fingers closed around her wallet. She pulled it out and flashed her driver’s license before the woman. Wow, everyone was so suspicious in this city.
The woman nodded and Brie helped her place items in the paper bags. Th
ey filled only two of them. “Thanks.” She threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder and hoisted the bags up to her chest. A young mother with toddler in tow, held the door for her and she escaped to the street.
“Oh God.” It slipped out of her mouth after finishing the first block. The bags were like lead, growing heavier with each step. Maybe she should hail a cab. She sighed, admonishing herself. No. You can do this. The fresh air and exercise would do her good.
She was halfway home when she stopped to shift the weight of the bags to her hips. Looking at the contents, hoping they wouldn’t spill over, she didn’t see the two guys approaching. Her arm was jerked and groceries spilled to the sidewalk, apples and cantaloupes rolling into the street. What the hell!
The leather strap of her purse was torn from the crook of her arm, spinning her. One of the guys, a teenager from the lithe body, jeans and leather jacket ran down the street, clutching her purse to his side like a football player.
Her heart thudded in her chest while her eyes almost popped out onto her cheeks. Her purse! And the groceries! She looked around, watching other people pass as if nothing had happened. No policeman or anyone to help! Even if there had been one around, driving by even, what could she tell them? Some kid in jeans and a leather jacket had robbed her? There had to be millions of teens in jeans and a leather jacket.
She picked up the bag of groceries, scrambling for anything that was still edible. With a harsh sigh she stood up and continued walking home. Fuck! Her first foray on her own in the big city and she’d been robbed. And no one had even offered to help her pick the groceries up let alone chase after the punk who’d robbed her. What a place! Chris would think her such a ….what was it he called naïve people? A rube. That’s what she was, a real rube.
Her arm throbbed where the strap of the purse had dug in before sliding off. Every person she encountered walking towards her was a potential thief. It didn’t matter that eye contact wasn’t done, not in New York City. By hell, no one was going to steal what she had in her arms. She’d miss the purse and she’d have to replace her id. What a pain. Thank God, she’d left her stash of money at home.
With every step closer to home, her blood pressure rose. This sort of thing probably happened a lot, people being robbed in broad daylight. It probably could have been worse. She could have been really hurt or even shot! Maybe this was a lesson for her.
A picture in the window of a storefront caught her eyes and she paused. A petite woman was elbowing the throat of a large man who was bent over her, attacking. Her eyes darted to the sign above the poster. In large lettering were the words Krav Maga. There was a symbol, a circle, dissected by a line and two half comma-like curves inside it. She stepped closer and read the smaller words under the poster.
“…self defense training program….empowering women to be safe, healthy, fit and confident.”
Maybe if she’d taken this training, that punk couldn’t have taken her purse. She stepped to the door, balanced the bags in one arm and pulled it open. A woman in her mid-thirties, hair pulled back in an tight pony tail looked up from the counter she stood behind.
“Hi. Can I help you?” Her voice was friendly and she had a warm smile below a pert nose spotted with freckles. She wore a navy T shirt with the symbol centered over full rounded breasts, while at the sides, her arms were toned and taut.
“Umm…I hope so. I just got robbed. Can you believe that! Some kid grabbed my purse and ran.” Brie’s jaw set in a firm line and she puffed an exasperated breath of air. “I don’t want it to happen again.”
The woman' s eyebrows pulled together. “Oh my God, that's rotten.” She shook her head, one side of her mouth pulled up at corner. “I’m Carly, one of the KM instructors.”
She eased around the edge of the counter, revealing the bottom half of her body, clad in sweat pants. The pants hung loosely but it was obvious that there was some mean muscle underneath. “You’ve come to the right place…um?”
“Brie. Brie Morely.” She looked over the woman’s shoulder, to a door where grunts and laughter emanated.
“If its self defense you’re looking for, without a lot of intense years to get there, Krav Maga is a good route to go. It’s the official self defense training system in the Israeli Army, so you know it’s got to be tough. Actually more and more law enforcement agencies are using KM. If you’d like to try it, the first lesson is free.” She placed her hands on the backs of her hips and tilted her head to the side, brown eyes twinkling.
“Oh. Free?” She grinned. “I'd like to try it. But will you be my instructor?”
Carly nodded with a smile and sauntered to her place behind the high counter.
She flipped a page in a leather bound book, her finger tracing down the lines of the page. Her eyebrows rose and she looked up. “How about tomorrow afternoon, at three? Just wear a T shirt and jogging pants and prepare to work up a sweat.”
Brie glanced down at the floor. It was free and she’d have plenty of time to get home and make Chris’s dinner. It had been a long time since she’d done anything to work up a sweat. High school gym classes had been the last time.
“I’m not all that fit you know. The most exercise I get is walking and cleaning house. Do you think I can do this?” Her eyes scanned Carly’s face, looking for just the tiniest bit of doubt.
“No problem. If you like it, you'll get fit, trust me. You’ll also never be afraid walking the streets, even at night. Believe me, a couple of years ago, I was like you. I’m no Miss Universe but my butt doesn’t shake as much when I walk. That’s one of the great things about KM. It’s fun and a great workout. You don’t even realize you’re exercising.”
“I’m in! Mark me down in the book and if I like it, I’ll sign up for more lessons.” The smile left her mouth. “Uh, how much does it cost?”
Carly crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. “I could give you the spiel about how much is your life worth....this could save you pain and medical bills yada yada yada. It's reasonable I think for most people--a hundred a month if you pay as you go, or sign up for six months and it’s four eighty.”
Brie looked at the floor, mentally calculating her savings. She'd better think about this. Try the lessons first. She smiled at Carly. “I'll see you tomorrow and we'll see how it goes.” With that she left the building.
The rest of the walk home was quiet, thank God. She kept an eye out for other people, potential muggers and thieves. Even so, she breathed a sigh of relief walking in the door of the townhouse.
As she toe-heeled her boots off she noticed an unfamiliar pair of men's overshoes and the sound of laughter drifted to the entrance, muted like it was coming from the kitchen. She rolled her eyes and sighed softly. Probably Michael. Just what she needed after such a horrible day.
She trudged down the hallway and stopped in the doorway. Immediately the conversation halted and they looked at her, the smiles fading from their faces. She was the raincloud that passes over the sun. She forced a smile and chirped, “Hi.” walking over to the counter.
'Hi Brie. Grocery shopping?” Michael eased by her, on his way to the door.
Chris continued leaning against the counter, watching his every step, a small smile on his lips.
“That and getting robbed.” She set the grocery bags next to Chris.
He turned to her and sniffed, “Yes, I know. Organics are expensive but you are what you eat, as they say.”
Her shoulders slumped and her head thrust forward staring at him. “No. I was robbed, literally. Some punks grabbed my purse and ran.”
“Oh no!” Chris reached for her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Gee Brie, that's awful.” Michael murmured.
She spun to face him, noting that his face DID look concerned. “Damned right! I stopped in at a self defense gym--Krav Maga. I'm doing a lesson tomorrow. Bloody punks won't rob ME again!”
“Whoa. That's serious stuff. The Israelis invented it. Some nasty street fighting and self defen
se from what I've heard.” Michael leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He wore a dark suit and blue shirt with a mauve tie. He must have popped in from work.
“Oh Brie...are you sure about this? Fighting? Self defense?” Chris spoke softly looking at her.
She turned to the counter, removing apples from the grocery bag. “Pretty sure. The first lesson's free but if I like it, I'm signing up.” She took a bowl from the cabinet and set the apples in it.
“Good for you, Brie! I mean it.”
She turned and met Michael's eyes. He was smiling but there was sincerity in his eyes.
“Look I've got to get back to work.” He lifted his hand and peered at his watch. “Oh shit. I've got a meeting in twenty minutes.” He scurried out the door and down the hall, calling out “Bye kids.” over his shoulder.
Chris turned and plucked the cantaloupe from the bag holding it in his two hands and gazing at her. “My little Brie. I'm sorry that happened to you but in this city, I'm not surprised. But if Michael thinks it's a good idea, well...”
She turned and thrust the lettuce into the bin in the fridge, rolling her eyes. Everything these days was Michael this and Michael that.
Chapter 13
Two weeks later…
Brie's thigh muscles were screaming in pain as she landed another kick against the large leather punching bag. “Uh!”
Carly peeked from behind it, her hands holding the bag. “Good one! Just one more and I think you've done enough for this session.”
“Sadist.” Brie's leg shot up, landing higher on the bag.
“Great! That would have connected with his jaw I think.” Carly's hands left the bag and she wandered over to where an Asian woman, Karen, was practicing next to Brie's mat.
Brie watched as she held the bag and the older woman's foot connected with it. Not nearly as high up as Brie's but the woman was smaller and had to be in her fifties.
There were only five other women in the class. Bonnie and Sara were obviously good friends who sparred together, holding the bag and taunting each other with verbal challenges. The other two were younger, Lisa, tall bone-rack skinny with a mop of red hair and the Cathy, heavy set and shorter.
