by Mia Moore
They seemed friendly and normal enough. It was beginning to feel like a group.
“Okay everyone. That's a wrap. See you next week and remember to keep practicing.” Carly wandered over to Brie just as she was about to go to the locker room for her coat. “Hey! You're doing pretty good Brie. I can tell you practice every day. Still liking it?”
Brie nodded and scooped the towel from the floor. She nodded as she wiped her forehead.
“Would you like to go get some lunch? I've got an hour before my next class. There's a restaurant down the block that serves a mean pastrami sandwich!” Carly grinned at her, standing casually with her hands on her hips.
Brie's lips parted and a smile spread on her face. She liked Carly. It would be good to have a girl friend to hang with. Especially now that Chris was spending so much time with Michael. “Sure, sounds great!”
Carly placed her hand on Brie's shoulder and grinned. “K. See you out front.” She bounced out the door to the front foyer/reception area.
Brie's chest felt light as she scampered to the locker room and grabbed her coat. The classes were more fun than she'd expected and meeting Carly was a definite bonus.
She tossed the hand towel in a hamper next to the door and slipped her coat on. When she walked into the Reception area, Carly stood in a lined jean-jacket, her pony tail threaded through the back opening of a ball cap.
“Ready?”
Brie nodded and pushed the door open, stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. Carly joined her, walking fast up the street, hands in her pockets. The day was clear but still a bit nippy.
“This place is fast and it's cheap. The food's pretty good.” Carly glanced over at her and smiled.
“Cheap is good anytime.” Brie smiled and watched a couple of guys in suits coming towards them. Business men on their lunch, hunched forward with the weight of the world of commerce on their shoulders.
“You bet!” She stopped and turned to the right.”This is it.”
Brie would have missed it if not for Carly. The restaurant was little more than a hole in the wall, with a small window set in a wooden door, the glass next to it revealing a lone table was barely bigger than the door. The smell of spiced meat, mustard and sauerkraut blended filled her nostrils and made her mouth water. Until that moment she hadn't really been that hungry.
“Let's sit at the counter.” Carly's hand rose pointing. “There's two empty stools”
Brie followed her, threading her way through the ten or so small formica tables in the centre of the narrow room. The counter was busy and they'd been lucky to get two seats, let alone two together. She opened her coat and took a seat.
Carly had barely sat down before a red headed waitress appeared before them. Her skin was sallow, lined features sharp, belying the youthfulness of her hair color. She thrust two menus in their faces but Carly spoke. “A pastrami on rye, hold the mustard, double the kraut and a diet coke.”
The woman nodded and glared at Brie. Her eyes widened and she squeaked, “Same.”
Carly's hand worked undoing the metal buttons of her coat and she grinned at Brie. “Ambiance leaves a little to be desired but the food's worth it.” Her hands flew up next to her face. “Hey! Whaddayawant for twelve bucks!”
Brie laughed and shook her head. This was a side of New York she'd never see with Chris.
Carly's fingers thrummed on the green counter top. She turned to Brie and smiled. “So...it looks like you've lost some weight since you've been at the gym. Probably not, but you're getting toned.”
“Lose weight?” She snorted. “That won't happen. I've never been able to shed more than five pounds.” Brie's eyes dropped to the counter. She looked up when the plastic glass of coke was plopped in front of her.
“So where're you from? Your accent's different.” Carly took a swig of her drink, watching her.
“Mumford, Ohio.”
Carly set the glass down. “Oh yeah? What brought you to the Big Apple?”
For a moment the smile faded from Brie's face, picturing her husband Rob. “I was married to a jerk. I left him almost two months ago.”
“Boy, when you leave, you really leave. That's what...eight hours away by car?”
Brie's mouth pulled to the side and she sighed. “A lifetime away.”
Carly lifted her glass and held it before Brie. “Hey! Here's to new beginnings, a new life.”
Brie raised her glass and clinked it against Carly's. Yeah. New beginnings. With all that she was learning with the on-line course and now the self-defense class, there had to be more opportunity in the big city than working in a grocery store.
Carly set her glass down again and looking at the waitress walking towards them, sandwiches in hand, said, “So what do you do for a living?”
Brie sighed and plucked the napkin from a container on the counter, placing it on her lap. “Right now, I'm keeping house and cooking for the guy who took me in when I got here. It's only until April and then...” She flashed a weak smile at Carly. “I don't know.”
Carly's brow furrowed. “Hmm.”
“Yeah. I know. Maybe I'll do what I did back home but...”
“You'd rather not. I get it.” She took a bite of her sandwich staring ahead at the wall in front of them.
Brie's head tipped to the side and she glanced over at the young woman. Carly was not only nice, she was pretty with the upturned nose and wide blue eyes. The freckles on her nose made her look like the girl next door.
She didn't deserve to be brought down by Brie's worries. She forced a smile and made her voice chirpy. “Something will turn up. I'm doing a college course on-line that I'm enjoying.”
Carly swallowed and turned to her. “Oh yeah? What's the course?”
“Literature, American classics.” Brie took a bite of the sandwich. It was warm, the meat salty while the sauerkraut added tang.
“Hemingway, Faulkner, Twain? That sort of stuff right?” Carly grinned and continued eating.
Brie nodded. This was great. Carly knew about these authors. Maybe they could talk about what she was currently reading, Grapes of Wrath. Chris hadn't been home in two days and she missed that.
Carly's eyes sparkled when she turned to Brie. “I always liked English in school--the only subject I got straight 'A's in”.
“I'm reading Steinbeck now, Grapes of Wrath.”
“Oh God, that's so sad. I won't say how it ends. I hate spoilers.”
Brie nodded and smiled. “Ever seen the movie? I got it at home.”
Carly finished the last of her sandwich and signaled to get the waitress's attention. She glanced at her watch and swallowed hard before turning to Brie. “Loved it. Henry Fonda should have won an Oscar for it. I could watch it again. But I have to dash. We'll talk again on Thursday.”
The waitress handed her the bill and was about to give the second to Brie but Carly snatched it from her hand. “This is on me. You buy next time.” She fished out the cash and put it next to her plate. She stood up and squeezed Brie's shoulder. “See you later. Keep up with the practicing and reading.”
“Thanks. I will.” Brie watched Carly go out the door, her ponytail swaying from side to side. She smiled and bit down on the last of the sandwich. Her chest was light and she inhaled deeply. She'd just made a new friend.
****
Later, when she opened the door to Chris's townhouse, she spotted his boots. His coat was hanging in the closet when she opened it and hung her coat up.
She lifted the gym bag and walked down to the kitchen. “Hi.” She looked at the counter where half of the contents of the fridge sat. He turned and grinned at her, all love-struck and starry-eyed.
She sighed. Oh God. It seemed to be a perpetual thing now. It was great that he and Michael were so happy but she missed the old Chris, the guy who would ask her about the book she was reading, where was THAT guy? The new Chris was absent minded and when he did talk, it was always about Michael, how great he was at absolutely everything.
�
�Can I make you something to eat?” She set the bag on the chair and started for the counter.
He grinned wider. “I don't know. Can you?” He finished this comment with a silly, high pitched laugh.
“Sorry, I guess it should have been 'May I' not 'can I'.” She huffed and grabbed the loaf of bread from his hands.
“That's right, Brie. You're learning.” He sauntered to the table and moved her bag. It banged onto the floor.
She turned to see his nose wrinkle as he peered at it. Her neck flamed and she slapped the slices of bread onto the counter. “Will you be here for dinner?”
He sighed and the chair creaked as he sat down. “Probably not. Michael is—”
“AGAIN?” Her fingers gripped the butter knife and she scraped a skim of butter over the bread.
“What?” It sounded so innocent.
She whirled around to face him, her eyes wide above the gash of her lips. “You're never here anymore. When was the last time we had dinner, watched a movie or talked about any book I'm reading?”
“BRIE! Aren't you happy for me? I finally find my Prince Charming—”
“Some Prince Charming! He's barely covers civility whenever he talks to me.” Her knuckles were white gripping the knife.
“That's not true. He's polite and considerate. Your problem is that you need to get out more, make some friends.” His eyes closed for a moment and a smile flashed on his lips. “Wait. I know what this is, why you're so mean today. You've got that woman thingy. You're PMS or something.”
Her eyes grew even wider and she inhaled deeply feeling her blood begin to boil. PMS? Whenever a woman gets mad, leave it to a man to blame her hormones. She would have expected more from Chris. It was this whole stupid Michael thing.
“I AM. NOT. MENSTRUATING.”
His eyes flashed wide in shock before they turned cold, the grey of old ice. “You're jealous of me. I'm having fun, having great sex and you're jealous.”
“I AM NOT.”
“Are too!” He stood up and took a step closer to the door before stopping and glaring at her. “You know what your problem is, Brie? You need to get laid! Not gentle milk-toast sex but fucked hard. Real hard!”
Her head jerked while her mouth gaped. “What?”
“You heard me. Sure, it's great that you're reading, even working out at the gym but that's not all there is to life. We've never talked about sexuality. In all this time you've been here, you never mentioned a guy, feeling horny--nothing! It's time you dated.” He turned and took another step until he was almost out of the room. Again he paused and then spun to face her.
“Friday night. Go out to a bar. I want you to pick up some stud and get fucked. You need it. Michael and I will go with you if you're afraid to go out alone.”
Her head jerked back at his final words. Michael and him? Was she supposed to pick up some guy at a gay bar? Fat chance.
“My sex life is none of your business!” She gritted her teeth.
“Humor me. I dare you to go out. Despite the Kro Magnum self defense shit, you're chicken!” He poked his thumbs into his armpits and started clucking, flapping his elbows like an overweight bird.
“I AM NOT!”
“Squawk, squawk...ARE TOO!” He pointed his toe, scratching it along the floor, mimicking a chicken walk.
“Want to make a bet on that?” Her nostrils flared. She'd like to practice that kick move again...against that prancing chicken.
He looked up at her and his eyes narrowed. “Sure. But not for money. I've got gobs of it and you don't.”
She huffed and glared at him. “Okay then. If I win you promise to stay home and watch a movie with me. Something I choose.”
“Oh God. Not 'Sex in the City or some other inane piece of dreck.” His chin jutted forward. “What if I win?”
She ground her teeth. “You won't. But if you do, then I'll prepare a candle lit dinner for you and Michael.”
“We each like escargot. Make sure that's an appetizer.” His eyes lit up. “And oysters on the half shell. They're good for the libido. Not that we need it.” He grinned and his eyebrows bobbed.
Her head tilted and she bit her lip watching him gloat. After a few moments, her eyes became slits. She'd had enough of his antics. She'd make him sorry. “Not 'Sex in the City'...something better. Something with Angelina Jolie. I know how much you like her.”
“Oh God, not her! She has the lips and eyes of a tropical fish and as for acting...” He grinned. “Escargots, oysters and red meat. Bloody, raw meat, lightly seared. Michael likes that.”
He turned and fluttered his fingers, sauntering out of the room. His bedroom door opened and he let out one last loud chicken squawk before closing it softly.
Brie gripped the counter and gulped hard. What had she just agreed to?
Chapter 14
It came way too soon. Friday night sitting at a table near the long mahogany bar, sipping a glass of Chardonnay as she waited for Carly to appear. It was nine-thirty, early by bar standards and only half of the dimly lit room was occupied.
Brie glanced at her watch. What was keeping her? The door opened and she looked for her new friend. Not her. A trio of two women and a guy in their late twenties entered, looked around and took a table near the dance floor.
The Disc Jockey peered out from a glassed cubicle elevated high above the empty area. The music filling the air had an odd beat and lyrics that were indecipherable. It was no wonder no one was dancing. THAT, plus the fact that the alcohol level hadn't reached the right stage.
A couple of guys stood at the bar about five feet away. The shorter of the two, blonde hair and clean shaven kept giving her the eye when he wasn't talking with his friend.
Her hand shook as she picked her purse from the floor and plucked the cell phone out. She pressed the button and the screen lit up, a bright blue beacon. Nothing from Carly.
Her stomach clenched and she glanced at the table. Was she going to show? Carl had been up for an evening out when she'd suggested it after class. When she found out about the bet, her eyes had brightened and her jaw set tight.
Brie's finger brushed the screen pulling up her 'Contacts' folder. She frowned, noting that Rob and her mother were still listed. But they had to be, otherwise she couldn't block their calls, not that there'd been that many in the weeks she'd been in New York.
She tapped on Carly's name, glad that she'd had the foresight to exchange numbers.
“Where are you?”
Her eyes darted to the blonde guy at the bar. As expected, he was watching her. He turned to his friend, the tall guy with a mustache below a beak-like nose and dark narrow eyes. They seemed to share a joke, laughing.
She looked away, staring at her phone, willing it to ring or message, anything. Even a taunt from Chris would be welcome. Oh God. Were these guys talking about her, laughing at her?
She took a sip of wine shifting her gaze along the bar, away from them. A few seats down was a soldier in uniform. Unlike Blondie and his friend, this guy was clean cut almost to a fault. Also unlike Blondie, this soldier was at least ten years older than her… forget that; he was in his forties! When their eyes met, he gave her a shade of a smile. There was something familiar about his expression.
She continued checking out the bar. There were lots of women, probably an equal number as men but only one other woman sat by herself at a table.
That woman looked to be in her forties but dressed like she was still in college, with the short skirt, low cut top and dark suede vest. Her hairstyle, long, straight black hair was more suited to a teenager than someone her age. A cougar?
She glanced once more at the soldier who was still watching her. He was closer to the other woman's age. Why was he not interested in the cougar instead?
The cell phone vibrated and she startled. The screen lit up with a message.
“Sorry. I'm forty minutes away. Please wait for me.”
Her stomach sunk through the floor and her eyes rolled. Forty minutes! A w
aitress wearing a white shirt, bowtie and dark pants set a drink in front of her. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.
The waitress's red lips curled in a smile. “Compliments of that guy over there.” Her head jerked to the right.
Brie's eyes shifted. The blond guy lifted his drink in a silent salute. She nodded and a small smile creased her face before her gaze returned to the table and the fresh glass of wine. Her hand trembled as she raised the glass, finishing her first drink. Her skirt had ridden up on her thigh and she tugged it lower.
Her top was a soft cashmere knit, cut in a low 'V' with a boat neck. The left shoulder of the sweater had slipped to the side. Her fingers rose to put it back in place. She gulped feeling that every eye in the place was sizing her up.
She wasn't the biggest woman in the place. There were a couple of girls in their early thirties, giggling, their hand gestures and make-up overdone, sitting a few tables away.
A pleasant warmth settled in her chest when she took a deep breath. That first glass of wine helped. Maybe the second would enable her to endure the next forty minutes until Carly got there. She took a long sip, already feeling the pleasant easing in her arms and legs.
She glanced at Blondie again. He was speaking to his friend but his eyes never left hers. God. He actually wasn't bad looking when he shifted to the side. Slim hips and a small tight butt was evident in the dark chinos.
The song changed to a slow one that she liked. Her eyes closed for a moment and her fingers tapped the glass. When she opened her eyes, Blondie stood across from her, a small smile on his face, while the gaze of his blue eyes roamed over her.
Her breath caught and she gaped at him. Oh God. Was he going to sit down?
“Hi. You look like you're enjoying this song. Would you care to dance?”
Her fingers tightened on the glass and she tried hard to return his smile. Oh no, not dancing. Rob had always told her she was a lousy dancer, like pushing and pulling a log across the floor.
