The Lonely Hearts 06 The Grunt 2

by Latrivia S. Nelson

  “No, there are a couple of good women in here that happen to be strippers. Because Amber is a bad person,” Daisy emphasized, furrowing her brow.

  Leo calculated in the young woman’s facial expression, terse with emotion, she knew more about Amber than she was willing to say on their first meeting. But she was young and vulnerable and Amber Valentine…well, she was a viper, just like him. Still, the thing that made him good at what he did was that no one knew he was a viper until they had already been bitten.

  He ran his finger over the bar gently as though he was running them over the smooth curves of her voluptuous young frame. My, how he loved young meat. The only problem with it was that they were full of piss and vinegar. “Amber’s okay once you get to know her.” He wouldn’t say one bad word about his meal ticket to anyone, especially someone looking to replace her. But he would toy with her. “You interested in the job?”

  She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and then smiled. “I might be,” she said, pushing her elbows up on the bar. She gazed into his dreamy green eyes, the color of US currency and took in his expensive cologne. “You thinking about changing the scenery?” Glancing down at his vintage Rolex, she guessed he must be rolling in dough. Why else would Amber be with him?

  He laughed at her question, considering his current circumstance. If only she knew how badly he wanted a change of fucking scenery, it might scare her. Only, he wasn’t interested in taking sand to the beach.

  She coiled back. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “No,” he said, stopping his laugh long enough to put his hand over hers. “Laughing with you, because yes, I do want a change in scenery. What can I say? You see right through me.”

  “Or maybe I don’t see you at all?” she said seriously.

  He shook his head and sighed. “Well, I do believe you are… dangerous.” And he knew that she was. She was probably some pre-law, college girl working here to pay the bills with dreams of burning her bra and running for public office one day. He had fallen for her type once. Married her too. That didn’t work out well. He had the divorce papers to prove it.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m dangerous,” she said, turning up her lips. “But I do believe in going after what I want.”

  Leo wanted to kiss her right then and there. Her luscious glossy lips. Her minty fresh breath. Her natural skin, no sign of makeup. Just fresh face and transparent honesty. In fact, his could feel the ache rising up in his balls at just the idea of throwing her over the side of that bar and fucking her independent brain out right in front of Amber and that fucking idiot john.

  But Leo wasn’t a stupid man. Amber was broke. The chipped nails, lackluster dead-ends in her hair, her mere presence in this place, alluded to the fact that she was a worker. And he had no space in his life for workers, no matter how good they were.

  “What’s wrong? Are you silently debating it in your head?” she teased. “You can’t depend on the woman who only eats what you bring to the table,” she joked. “Gotta have someone who brings the whole damn table.”

  That snapped Leo back into reality. His eyes grew dark, but he quickly hid his jaded inner monster. “A man can’t eat a table, lovely.”

  Daisy’s body language suggested that she took that as a rejection.

  The alarm went off in Leo’s sick twisted head. After all, he knew women.

  She was new to the club and green as grandma’s grip – the combination was good for club Intel, his second-string team and free drinks. His face warmed like sun coming across a dark horizon. Instantly the mood changed. He was back to being the gentleman that southern women responded to. “I’m always interested, Daisy, especially in a woman as special as you.” He made sure to use the word woman instead of girl. Being as privy to bullshit as she was, she would have noticed that little slip. “I mean, hell’s bells, even in this place, your light shines bright. You’re different from these girls. You’re going places.”

  “Going to Duke University’s School of Law in a year, if I can just keep my head above water with the bills,” she said, allowing her own pride to expose the truth about her. She wasn’t a bimbo. She wasn’t a slut. She didn’t see how these women allowed themselves to fall so short of such a simple standard.

  Bingo, Leo thought to himself. He knew he recognized the bitch trait. When women had it, it was hard to cloak. Trying not to blatantly patronizing her, he finally winked at her and rested his back against his bar seat, throwing one arm over the side. “Soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew it. I gotta admit, you’re tempting the hell out of me. But my weakness is that I’m a one-woman-man. Always have been. But if I weren’t already with Amber, I’d be picking you up and carrying you out of here, right now.” The lie oozed out of his mouth with such finesse that it sounded like pure sincerity.

  Foolishly, Daisy believed him. She took her rejection without offense, not realizing that she had just dodged a huge, life-changing bullet. He was already with a woman, despite her infinite shortcomings – that was the reality of the situation. “Well, you know where I am, when that doesn’t work out.”

  “Oh, I’m making a mental note,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

  The conversation had taken too long. He looked back over at Amber, who was eyeing him now even as the old man behind her lost control in his pants, loudly gasping as he jerked against her backside. Leo was surprised the john had lasted that long.

  “That’s my cue. Looks like I better get back to work,” Daisy said, winking back at Leo before she went over to the other side of the bar to clean up.

  “Sounds like it’s closing time,” Leo said, watching Amber stand up and pass the old man a baby wipe. Covertly, she took the large wad of money from him and kissed his cheek. Now done with the woman, he patted her on the ass and rested back in his seat.

  Without missing a beat, she pounced in her stilettos over to him. “What the fuck?” she said, sitting down in the seat beside him.

  “What the fuck what?” Leo asked innocently.

  “Are you over here flirting with this bitch in my face?” Amber snarled over at Daisy.

  Leo turned slowly to Amber, pulled her seat to him so that she was in between his legs and cupped her face in his large hands. “Baby, she was just talking about how pretty you are.” His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Be nice, baby. She’s just a young girl. And…I think she’s got the hots for you.”

  Amber’s face changed. That idea had not crossed her mind as she watched the two of them talk from across the room. Amber was a conceited, self-centered woman and the idea of another woman wanting her, especially in this place, was a good possibility.

  “Oh,” she said, shoulders relaxing. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  He smiled at her. “I just did.”

  Wiping the sweat from her brow, she smiled. “Have you been studying the stuff the lawyer gave you?”

  Leo ran his hands over the papers. “Got it all right here. I’m going over everything with a fine tooth comb.”

  “Good. We need that money. I can’t keep supporting you. It’s breaking my back,” she said, keeping her voice low so that no one would hear her real plight.

  “Baby, just hold on with me for just a little while longer and we’ll have plenty of money.”

  “And a new kid,” she lamented.

  “No,” he said, holding up a finger. “I figured that out too. See, I told Mrs. Riley that I was accepting an offer to do contract work in Afghanistan and I’d be gone for about a year after the case ended.”

  “She bought that?” Amber asked, picking up his glass and taking a sip of his drink.

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “I’m a convincing man. Once I get legal and physical custody of the kid, I’ll march him right over to his grandparents, where he belongs, and then I’ll collect the check from the lawyer. I’ll be able to pay you back what I owe you and we can head down to Miami, like we always planned.”

  The idea made Amber giddy. “We’re so clo
se to being millionaires.”

  Leo smiled big at the thought. “Baby, I’m going to take such good care of you. You just wait and see. The best clothes, cars, and a condo off the beach. You never have to worry about anything again.”

  Leo’s promises nearly made Amber forget that she was footing the entire $5,000 a month bill for his expensive lifestyle as she thought about how life in Miami was going to be. She’s always wanted to live there, ever since she was a little girl growing up in the trailer park. But all that was behind her now. She’d found a real live Naval officer and she was on her way to a good life.

  She leaned in and kissed him. “Get back to studying. I’ve got about an hour left and you and I can get out of here and go get something to eat.”

  “I’m in the mood for lobster. How about you?” Leo said much louder than the previous more clandestine parts of their conversation. He knew that she could afford it. She’d amassed a little fortune today dry humping the elderly.

  “Lobster sounds delicious,” she said, kissing him again. Slipping down off the bar stool, she looked across at Daisy and winked at her.

  Leo watched as Amber frolicked happily back across the floor, just in time to snag a gray-haired gentleman walking through the front door. Pay dirt.

  “Work it, baby!” he said, shimming a little for her to see.

  Amber laughed and grabbed the man by his tie to lead him to the back room, where the more expensive favors were given.

  When she was out of sight, Leo looked back over at the curious little Daisy, who was watching them just out of earshot, and grinned.

  Chapter 14

  “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build…” -Ecclesiastes 3:1-15 (NIV)

  Amidst a collection of over 200 Crayola® Crayons and Markers, Brett rested flat on the floor of the den in front of his coveted 60”, curve television and a room full of toys, while he colored in a very brilliant, extremely large Star Wars coloring book with Cameron.

  Oddly enough, it had been the first coloring book he had used since he was a boy; but somehow, just freeing his mind and doing something simple yet creative with his son was actually calming. Go figure. Therapy was as simple as returning to his childhood. He almost laughed. If only, he had known this years ago, he could have cured himself of PTSD.

  Right after breakfast, he sent Courtney away to get some fresh air and not be at his every beck and call for once. He had figured out early in their relationship that his wife was like a sunflower - in the sunlight, she flourished but in the dark, she wilted. No matter the situation, the result was always the same. And considering this was without a doubt one of the darkest moments of their life together, he knew that he needed to tend to her needs now more than ever.

  Plus, Court had been working her ass off since they got back from Bethesda. Cleaning. Cooking. Washing. Making calls. Emailing. Taking care of the kids. Taking care of him. Running errands. Just watching her made him tired, and worse, it made him feel guilty. She was supposed to be enjoying a fruitful marriage where she was catered to, yet it seemed that all he had brought back home from Afghanistan, despite his promises, was a shit ton of problems.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself, a voice whispered in the back of his head.

  “Darth Vader is not red,” Cameron said, pointing a short, stubby finger at his father’s work, like a teacher to a student.

  Brett paused, crayon still against the paper. “Says who?” he asked, repressing his grin.

  “Says me,” Cameron answered flippantly. After all, if anyone in this house was an authority on coloring books, it was him.

  At that moment, Cameron reminded Brett so much of Courtney. He could tell that his wife was rubbing off on his son - picking up her sayings and her quick wit, having an answer for everything.

  Tousling the little man’s mop of brown locks, he went back to coloring Darth Vader red to make a point. “Well, I like him red. So, that’s what I’m coloring him.”

  Cameron was dumbfounded. Red? Really? “Have you ever seen the movie?” Cameron asked, waiting for an answer from his father.

  “Before you were even born,” Brett snickered.

  Unexpectedly, Bella giggled as if she were following the conversation. Resting in the swinging chair beside them in a pink jumper, she beat her yellow raddle against the front tray and flashed her gummy smile.

  “Bella thinks he’s not supposed to be red, too,” Cameron argued.

  “Do you speak baby?” Brett joked.

  “No one speaks baby, Daddy,” Cameron said seriously.

  “So, you guys are just gonna gang up on poor dad, huh?” Brett said, picking up the black crayon. If they wanted Darth Vader to be colored black, then damn it, he’d color him black.

  Cameron giggled too. He thought Daddy was funny. “It’s fun having you back home,” he said, leaning over to kiss his father’s head.

  Brett’s heart instantly warmed. If this guy still loved him, maybe everything was going to be alright. He glanced at the boy’s brown eyes, blush red chubby cheeks and his frumpy brown locks with pure admiration. Cameron had been his saving grace through all of this.

  Propping himself up on his elbows, Brett looked at his two kids, feeling undeservedly blessed. “You know I love you, right?” Brett asked Cameron. “No matter what.”

  There was no question for Cameron. “I love you too,” he said, coloring his picture again. He didn’t look up from the paper. “Is something wrong, Daddy?”

  “Why do you say that?” Brett asked heart lurching at what the boy might already know.

  “You seem sad,” Cameron huffed. For a little guy with a tiny vocabulary, the word sad would have to suffice to articulate all of the emotions that he had felt since he was told that his Daddy had been injured. There was so much more there, so much he didn’t know how to explain.

  However, with all of his experience in life, Brett also found it difficult to find the words to express to a four-year old what was going on. He blew a breath out of his mouth. “I’m having a hard time. Daddy got hurt real bad, and he lost his friends.”

  Cameron stiffened. “I know.”

  “How do you know?” Brett asked.

  “I heard you and Mommy talking about it in the kitchen last night. Uncle Joe is dead. The men from your unit are dead.” Cameron swallowed hard. Even as a child, he understood the weight of the circumstance. “I’m just glad you didn’t die.”

  Brett pursed his lips together.

  Cameron’s voice pitched high. “Are you glad, Daddy?” he probed innocently.

  “Glad of what?” Brett realized he had been gone too long. His son had grown up…a lot. These were not the type of questions his son would have asked eight months ago.

  The little boy felt like it was obvious what his question was. “Are you glad that you didn’t die?”

  Brett looked over at the clock on the entertainment center. What time was it? He needed a damn beer, but Courtney would kill him, if she came in and he had one in his hand before noon, especially around the kids.

  Rubbing a hand over his head, he looked away and nodded. “Yeah, I’m glad that I didn’t die.” His voice sank. Why did he feel bad about admitting that?

  “Momma Amy died,” Cameron continued.

  God, kid. You are killing me, Brett thought to himself. But he would never cut his son off from expressing his emotions. After all, he was the one who had left the boy alone to figure things out while he was off fighting a war. It was only fair that Cameron have an opportunity to talk about his feelings.

  “Yes, Amy died, too,” Brett said. “It was an air plane crash that took your mom.” He wanted to make it clear that while his men died valiantly in war, Amy’s death was more of a freak accident and nothing commendable.

  Cameron put down his crayon and tilted his little head up to look at his fathe
r. His little nose wrinkled. “Where was she going when the plane crashed?”

  Really? Brett bucked his eyes. Wow. “Hey, do you remember Mommy Amy?” he asked, changing the subject slightly. How could he tell his son that his mother was leaving them for good for another man? That was a conversation he could avoid for the rest of his life, if possible.

  “Yes,” Cameron said with a not-so-readable look on his face. “Mommy gave me a picture of her to keep, because sometimes it’s hard to remember her in my mind. She told me to never lose it, and that way I won’t ever forget her.”

  That was more than Amy deserved, Brett thought to himself. But that small omission made him want to know more. What else had Courtney said while he was gone? What other morals was she instilling in the little guy that he had forgotten to focus on as a somewhat absentee parent?

  “What was it like here with Mommy by yourself? Brett asked.

  Cameron smiled big. “I don’t know. It was…happy. She bakes cookies. She lets me splash in the tub and play with my boats and rubber duckies. She reads to me a lot and kisses me before bedtime. And when I’m sick she rubs my tummy.”

  Brett was relieved at Cameron’s response, but what did he expect? Courtney was the same no matter what. “You like that, huh?” Brett asked.

  “Yeah, especially the cookies.”

  Brett chuckled. He liked Court’s cookies too. “Do you like…” He cut himself off. How did he ask this? “Do you like Mommy being here more than…” Then it hit him. He didn’t need to ask that question. Of course the boy did.

  Cameron was curious now that his father had stopped mid-sentence. “Do I like it more than when we were alone?” he asked his father.

  That wasn’t what Brett was going to ask, but he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I do like it. She’s the best mommy in the whole world.”

  Cameron’s conviction was without bias. He had no reason to choose one woman over the other. He had loved both, but he loved Courtney more, because she actually gave a damn about him. And without knowing it, Cameron had answered Brett’s unspoken questions.