You're Dangerous

by Casey McMillin

  He could tell by the style that whoever had written on that chalkboard was the same person who drew on the bottom of his cup. He smiled, thinking he was about to figure out who'd done it once and for all. The guy called Nothing passed by with a bus pan under one arm, and Jason put a hand out to stop him.

  "Hey, can you tell me who drew that?" Jason gestured toward the chalkboard, and both Nick and Nothing looked at the wall to see what he was talking about.

  Nothing assumed he was wondering about the art, so he just read the chalkboard in front of them, wondering why a guy who seemed halfway intelligent couldn't just read it for himself. "It says, art by Jessica Foy," he said. (He was an atheist, so everyone expected and excused his testiness.)

  "I meant who drew the words on the chalkboard," Jason said.

  Nothing looked back at the chalkboard with an expression of annoyance like he couldn't understand why someone would want to know who wrote a few words on it. He looked it over for a few seconds before he realized who'd done it. "Oh, that's Hannah," he said.

  Jason shrugged. "Which one's Hannah?"

  Nothing thought for a second about how he could describe her. "I don't know. She looks like a girl. She's not here today or I'd show you. She worked up in the front with me and Matt yesterday. She was one of the ones who made your coffee if you came in yesterday."

  Jason pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, took out the round piece of paper, and showed it to Nothing. "Is this her?" he asked.

  Nothing only looked at the paper for a split second before answering. "Yeah, that's Hannah," he said. He didn't even ask what the cartoon was or where Jason had gotten it. "You should see the one she drew of me," he said.

  Jason held up the paper. "She drew one of these for you?"

  "No, she drew me on her job application," Nothing said.

  Jason shot him a confused look.

  "I think it's back in the office," Nothing said. "It's really cool. I'll go get it and show you, and you can match it up with your little one, but I think it's Hannah for sure."

  Jason nodded letting Nothing know that he was interested in seeing the application, and Nothing took off toward the back, presumably to get it.

  Hannah.

  So that was her name.

  The whole conversation had taken Nick by surprise, but he remembered the cartoon from Jason's office and was suddenly interested in seeing how it all played out. Nothing was back in no time at all with a piece of paper in his hand. He handed it to Jason.

  "I would probably get fired for showing you this," Nothing said.

  Jason didn't attempt to give it back. He just stared down at it. There was no doubt in his mind that those two drawings were done by the same person. The style was unmistakable.

  "I won't tell anybody," Jason said, glancing up at Nothing. "Would you mind if I look at it for a second?"

  "I don't care, just don't tell anyone I gave it to you. I'll be back for it in a few." Jason took his time looking at it before handing it over to Nick.

  "What is this?" Nick asked.

  "It looks like she answered all of the questions with a drawing," Jason said.

  Nick laughed. "What I meant is, why are we looking at it?"

  Jason snatched it out of his hand as if Nick didn't deserve to see it after a question like that.

  "Because it's cool, and it's obviously the same girl who drew on the bottom of the cup."

  "Yeah, but why do you care?"

  "I don't. I just wanted to know who did it."

  Just then, Jason caught sight of one of his coffee shop groupies headed toward their table. He tucked the application by his side where she couldn't see it.

  "I can't believe you're drinking your coffee at a table," she said, smiling as she approached. She had long, dark hair that was pulled into a bun on the top of her head. She was cute enough, but Jason really never took the time to notice since he always just grabbed his coffee and went to work. Jason didn't remember her name, but he knew he'd been told to many times to ask again.

  Nick was no help at all.

  "Who's your friend, Jay?" he asked.

  Jason shot him an annoyed glance while the girl wasn't looking.

  "I'm Kelsey," she said. "Jason comes in here all the time, and I had to give him a hard time because he never sticks around to drink his coffee."

  "I'm a bad influence," Nick said. "I just moved to town, and I'm good at keeping him from his work." It was obvious that Nick wanted Kelsey to focus on the bad influence part of that comment because he followed it with the smile he always used on the ladies. Jason wasn't the least bit interested in Kelsey, Nick, or any of the flirting that might or might not be happening between them.

  "I'll be right back," he said. He smiled at Kelsey as he stood and held eye contact with her in an effort to keep her from looking at the paper he was holding behind his back. He skirted around her with the paper still at his side. "It was good seeing you Kelsey," he said.

  "You too," she replied, but he was already walking toward the hallway where he'd just seen Nothing carrying a bus pan.

  "Hey," Jason said. Nothing turned around and Jason held out the piece of paper. "Here's this," he said.

  Nothing wiped his hand on the apron hanging from his waist and took the paper from him. He turned to walk away without another word, but Jason stopped him.

  "Hey, is there anyway you could put me in touch with that girl?"

  Nothing turned around. "Uh, she works here," he said sarcastically.

  "Is she working right now?" Jason pressed.

  "No."

  There was a slightly awkward silence, but Jason really didn’t care what he thought.

  "I'll give you fifty bucks to give me her phone number," Jason said.

  Nothing cracked a smile, which was rare for him. Obviously, Jason was speaking his language. "I'll bring it to your table," he said.

  "Thanks," Jason said, but otherwise the two didn't say another word to each other—not even when Nothing brought the piece of paper to their table and traded it for the fifty dollar bill that was laying there in plain sight.

  "That was weird," Nick said.

  Jason shrugged. "He's an atheist," he said, as if that should explain everything. He picked up the scrap of paper and looked at the phone number. It wasn't a Nashville area code, and not one he recognized at all. Jason stashed it in his pocket, feeling a bit like he had to explain. "I like her style," he said. "I think she'd be great at album covers, and T-shirts, and flyers and stuff."

  "Plus you wanna fuck her."

  "I do not," Jason lied.

  "Have you ever laid eyes on this girl, or are you just going by her art?"

  Jason shrugged. "I've seen her, but it's not like that. I just like her stuff."

  Nick stared at Jason. "That's bullshit," he said. "I think you're being all sketchy about it because you want her for yourself."

  "Whatever," Jason said.

  He tried to seem aloof, but he was having an internal battle because, truth was, he did want her to himself, and that had never happened before. Jason and Nick had always shared girls. Nick had been part of that whole thing that started with Reagan and Porsche when they were in high school.

  "Let me call her then," Nick said, holding out his hand for the number. "If you're just hiring her to draw something for you, I can take care of that."

  Jason glared at him like he was out of his mind before changing the subject completely. "Cam wants us to bring Reagan and Porsche this weekend."

  Nick scoffed. "No chance, son. We're picking up some Vegas babies. Having Cam with us is like shooting fish in a barrel, dude. I hope he didn't already tell them they could come."

  Jason didn't really care. He just brought it up so Nick would get off his back about the coffee shop girl.

  Thankfully, their conversation was interrupted again. This time, it was Michael, the general manager. Both of the guys started to stand to shake his hand, but he waved them down. "I just saw you over here and wanted to come by
for a second." He looked at Nick. "I met you one other time when you were here with Jason, it's been a long time, but—"

  "I remember," Nick said, smiling and holding his hand out for Michael to shake. "How's it going?"

  "I'm good. Thanks. Hey, I know you're Leroy Logan's boy, and I just wanted to tell you he really deserved that honor. I've been a fan for years."

  "Thank you," Nick said. His dad's recent lifetime achievement award in country music had been the talk of the town, mostly because Leroy was such a beloved part of country music. He was so famous that in addition to him getting that honor, Comedy Central hosted a roast for him. Jason and his dad Mack had both been present, and it was one of the more fun things Jason had ever done.

  Leroy was good friends with Jason's dad, and had recorded more than twenty of his songs over the years. Unlike Jason, Nick had not followed in his father's footsteps. He didn't care one iota about country music other than the fact that it had been good to his father for so many years.

  Nick didn't care about much of anything, really—until he went off to boarding school and took his first class in finance. He found his passion in stocks, and recently graduated at the top of his class at NYU with a degree in finance. Of course, it was nice to have his father's fortune to gamble with, but Nick was good, and had earned himself and his dad a considerable amount of money with his investments.

  "Are you still living in New York?" Michael asked.

  "I actually just moved back," Nick said. "It's good to be home."

  "Well, it's good to have you," Michael said. He put a hand on Jason's shoulder, but continued to look toward Nick. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to come over and give my congratulations to your dad."

  "I'll tell him," Nick said, smiling.

  "Hey," Jason said. "What do you know about that girl Hannah?"

  "Hannah Garrison?" Michael asked, a bit confused.

  "The one who draws?"

  "Yeah," Michael said. "What about her?"

  "I was thinking about hiring her to draw a few things."

  "You're not stealing her," Michael said.

  He was smiling, but the possessiveness of the statement made Jason feel agitated. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

  Michael put his hands up. "I'm just messing around," Michael said, laughing. "We just all love her, and she's only been here for about a month. You should have seen the job application she filled out. It was hilarious—all cartoons. She's a really good artist, but I guess you knew that. She's doing the big chalkboards in the front this weekend." Michael paused for a second, thinking. "What'd you see of hers?" he asked.

  Jason couldn't really say he'd seen her application, so he pulled the cup bottom from his pocket and put it on the table.

  Michael stooped to pick it up. "Yep, that's Hannah all right." He looked at it more closely. "I was talking about it being Hannah that drew it, but that's also literally Hannah in the picture." He turned it over, giving it a thorough scan. He looked at Jason. "Where'd you get this?"

  "My coffee came in it. It was on the bottom of my cup and I cut it out."

  Michael looked at him with a disbelieving expression. "Really?" he asked. "She must have just been doodling or something."

  "I'm sure," Jason agreed, "but she may get a job from it."

  Michael laughed. "That girl can draw her way into a job," he said.

  Jason felt suddenly anxious to talk to her, so he said goodbye to Michael at the table and Nick in the parking lot, and headed to his office to call her.

  Chapter 8

  The day before, Jason Lane asked Hannah if she drew the picture on the bottom of the cup, and she lied to his face, saying she hadn't. It was stupid, but she did it without even thinking. It was probably because she panicked when he approached the espresso counter before he even ordered. She had good reason to panic when he did that. She had drawn on the bottom of a cup for the second time, and was just about to start making his coffee in it when he approached. Her nerves were so on edge that she just lied and ran away. Oh well, it was done, and there was nothing she could do to take it back.

  It was eleven in the morning on a random Wednesday. She didn't have to work at all that day and neither did Taylor, so the two of them were hanging out at Taylor's rent house. It was off of White Bridge Road, which was too far for Hannah to walk, so Taylor had come by to pick her up that morning. Taylor's roommates were at work, and the girls had plans to lie around, get some sun, and enjoy their day off.

  "Did I tell you Michael is thinking about selling me that little Nissan Sentra he has?" Hannah asked.

  "No, when did y'all start talking about that?"

  "We worked together yesterday and he was talking about how he was trading it in on something else, but would probably only get about a thousand dollars for it, trade in value. I told him that if he was going to get rid of it for a thousand to let me buy it before the dealership." Hannah shrugged. "I don't know what he'll do, but he seemed like he'd let me buy it if he decided to let it go for so cheap."

  "It would be perfect," Taylor said. "I hope it works out for you."

  Hannah's phone rang, and she picked it up from the little metal outdoor table it was setting on to see who was calling. It was a Nashville number that she didn't recognize. "It's a random number," she said even though Taylor hadn't asked. "I think I'll see if they leave a message," she decided out loud. She set it back on the table.

  It seemed like about three minutes had passed before the phone beeped, signaling a voicemail. Taylor was oblivious, just laying in the sun with her eyes closed as Hannah picked up the phone and listened to her message.

  "Hey Hannah, my name is Jason Lane. You drew a picture of yourself playing a record that I wrote on the bottom of my coffee cup the other day then when I asked you about it, you lied and said you didn't draw it. Anyway, I'm not sure why you did any of that—the drawing or the lying about it, but I do like the way you draw, and would like to talk to you about maybe doing a few projects for me in the future. So, uh, if you don't mind, just give me a call back at this number at your earliest convenience. This is my personal cell, so you can reach me anytime, text or call. Okay, so, I'll look forward to hearing from you, Hannah."

  The phone beeped, and Hannah realized she had been holding her breath that whole entire time. The rush of adrenaline she felt was just about crippling. She was completely humiliated and excited at the same exact time, and the combination of feelings left her gut in knots and her eyes stinging with the effort to hold back tears. She listened to the message again, and was still unable to decide what she was feeling afterward. She really wanted to call him, but the whole bit where he said he wasn't sure why she drew it or why she lied made her feel humiliated enough not to call him back.

  Taylor opened her eyes and regarded Hannah curiously. She'd listened to the message twice, and Taylor couldn't ignore the nervous energy that pulsed off of her friend. "Who was it?" she asked.

  Hannah was too shocked to do anything but tell the truth. "That guy Jason from the coffee shop."

  Taylor shot straight up like she'd been electrocuted. "Jason Lane? Are you serious? What'd he say?"

  "He wants to talk to me about doing some drawings."

  "How'd he see your drawings?" Taylor asked.

  "I have no idea," Hannah lied.

  "Well, obviously you've got to call him back," Taylor said.

  "I think I'm gonna wait till later."

  "Why, because I'm out here? I don't like to take phone calls with my roommates around either. You don’t have to talk in front of me if you don't want to. Just go in the house and call him back. I'll stay out here."

  "I might just text him back anyway," Hannah said.

  Taylor went back to lying down. "Just don't put off a phone call on my account," she said. She squinted up at Hannah and smiled. "I'm not trying to eavesdrop since I know you're good for the details later."

  Hannah got up and went into the house. She hadn't made up her mind about calling him ba
ck—she just wanted to be by herself for a few minutes so she could listen to the message again while she did some good old-fashioned pacing back and forth.

  Ten minutes had passed by the time she called him back.

  "Hannah Garrison, I'm glad you called me back," he said right off the bat.

  Hannah was already short of breath and she hadn't even said one word.

  "Hello," she said.

  "Hello. Did you get my message?"

  "I did."

  "Did you draw the picture on the bottom of my coffee cup?"

  "I did." There was a few seconds of silence before Hannah spoke again. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lied when you asked me about it yesterday. I'm not used to people noticing when I draw on cups, and I didn't know what to say when you brought it up. I feel like an idiot for lying. I'm sorry about that."

  "Do you draw on a lot of cups?"

  "Huh?"

  "You said you're not used to people noticing when you do it. Is that something you do all the time?"

  "Oh yeah, I draw all over everything actually."

  He knew she was avoiding the question, but he didn't push.

  "I'm going out of town in two days," he said. "I'd like to meet with you before then if we can set that up. I have something I'd like to have you draw for me."

  "I have to work tomorrow. You can come by the coffee shop if you want. You can also email me if you have images of ideas you wanted me to work from."

  "I'd rather meet you for lunch or something. What time do you work tomorrow?"

  "Seven to one."

  "Would you be able to meet me for lunch when you get off? Or better yet, what about dinner tomorrow night?"

  Hannah's stomach was knotted up so tight she could barely concentrate on what he was saying. Thank goodness she had the presence of mind to remember that she wouldn't be meeting him anywhere that wasn't within walking distance of her house since she had no way, other than Sam, to get there.

  "We could just catch up at the coffee shop," she said.

  "Why don't you want to have a meal with me?"