by Freya Barker
“You good, girl?” he rumbled, with his chin on my head.
“I’m good.” I smiled into his chest, surprised to find his embrace comfortable. Brotherly.
“Are you gonna help out here again?” he asked as he released me.
“Let me check with Viv.”
She had no problem with me working dinner prep in the kitchen, which is what I’d been doing all afternoon, listening to Dino’s deep voice explain cooking techniques and recipes.
When the door opens, and I see the familiar blond head walk through, all emotions come rushing back. My first instinct is to hide out in the kitchen, but I remember Viv’s off to the store to pick up some limes we’ve run out of. I can’t leave the bar.
I’m shocked when Tim lifts his face. I see deep lines and grooves carve his face into a mask of hurt. What the hell happened to him?
His eyes flit around the pub until they find me and settle there.
“Do you want to see the menu?” I stupidly ask. He doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head no. Without thinking, I grab the half-full bottle of scotch from Wednesday night, and pour him a drink. He barely registers the glass when I set it down in front of him.
“What happened?”
His mouth opens and closes a few times, but nothing comes out. Instead, he grabs the tumbler of scotch and tosses the contents back, slamming the glass back down on the bar—empty. “More,” he instructs me, his voice raw. I do as he says and pour another, but when I try to put the bottle back, he grabs my wrist. “Leave it.”
Oh boy. I know what that means. With a quick glance at Matt, who is observing Tim’s odd behavior from the other end of the bar, I leave the bottle and slip down to the kitchen. If the man is going to tie one on, he won’t be doing it on an empty stomach.
“Do you have anything ready?” I ask Dino as I walk in.
“Like what?”
“Food. Anything that would give a good base to a bender,” I suggest to him, pulling open the fridge to see what I can put together.
“Who’s going on a bender?” Dino asks, his hands on his hips.
“Tim. Something’s wrong with him. Something’s happened, he’s acting strange. Aiming to finish up that bottle of scotch, by the looks of it.”
“You get back out there,” he waves me to the door. “I’ll get a plate together. I’ll be right out.”
I don’t waste time and head back to see if there’s any way I can stop what seems to be a runaway train.
One look at the bottle, Tim is keeping uncapped in his hand, tells me he’s had at least one or two more in the short time I was gone. Determined, I step up to the bar, grab the discarded cap, and screw it back on the bottle.
“Don’t bother,” he says, his eyes on me dark with emotion. “It won’t stay on long.”
I hold his eyes, searching for something, anything, I don’t know what. Answers? An explanation to why he blows in on a Friday afternoon at three o’clock, when he would normally still be at the office, intent on getting plastered? Just before he lowers them, I see his clear blue eyes start blurring.
“Do me a favor?” Dino’s voice sounds behind me, as he reaches around me and puts a wooden board with slices of cold cuts, cheeses, and a little bowl of olives in front of Tim. “I’m trying out some things to go on the after-hours bar menu Gunnar wants me to prepare. Antipasto. Give it a whirl.” Without waiting for an answer, he returns to the kitchen.
“I know what you’re doing,” Tim says, his eyes now back on me. I opt not to answer and leave him, his bottle of scotch, and his platter of protein to tend to customers on the other end.
Clever Dino. Even though Tim shoved the board aside initially, I notice he’ll occasionally snatch a piece of cheese or some meat, until the food is almost gone, save for the dish of olives. I keep my eye on him, while holding court with Arnie, and more often than not, find him looking at me. When I see him pop the last of the cheese, I casually walk over.
“Don’t like olives?” I say, as I pinch one and pop it in my mouth. His eyes follow the olive as it disappears between my lips before looking at me.
“Not particularly, although I have newfound appreciation for them,” he admits, as he leans forward and with his thumb, brushes a drop of oil from my bottom lip. My tongue unconsciously slips out to follow the tingle left behind. Slowly Tim drags his gaze up from where it’s been fixed on my mouth. The darkness in his eyes is replaced with unexpected heat. That, I recognize, having seen it all to often in the eyes of nameless faces hovering over me. I just didn’t expect it to find it in Tim’s.
It’s like the air is sucked out around us, as the sounds of the bar seem to disappear, and I’m left in a vacuum, getting lost in the deep blue pools of his eyes.
“I’m back. I can’t believe I had to stop into three different places to find limes. Crazy. Those things practically roll down the streets in the summer time, but disappear like the sun in the winter.” Viv’s ramble, as she gently nudges me aside to put away her purchases, is enough to snap me back to reality. I slowly blink and watch Tim do the same.
“Back again?” Viv teases Tim, who tries to smile back, but is not too convincing. “You okay?” I hear her ask, as I start washing and slicing a couple of the limes, putting the wedges in the fridge for later use. His response is no more than a monosyllabic mumble.
With patrons needing refills on the other side of the bar, and Matt waving for a hand, I lose track of what’s being said and instead focus on serving food and drinks. After all, that’s what I’m here for. I’m not his lover, counselor, or even his friend, and if he chooses to talk to Viv instead of me, it should be no skin off my nose. Except it is. It stings—especially after sharing yet another of those intimate moments.
Aside from a few cursory glances at his broad back, bent over the beer I’m glad he changed to, I try not to pay him much mind. It isn’t until I’m wiping down tables after much of the dinner crowd has left, that I notice Ike sitting next to him, one of his hands in the middle of Tim’s back.
With a tub full of the dirty dishes I’ve collected, I head to the kitchen, where Dino is putting on his coat. The large clock on the wall says it’s ten o’clock already.
“How’s he doing?”
I lift my head from the dishwasher. “Not sure. He never said anything.” I shrug, going back to my task of stacking dirty plates in the trays.
“How are you doing?” Is his next question. I glance at him; leaning against the counter, holding on to the ends of his scarf, appearing very relaxed. But I can see a darkness in his eyes too. Seems like everyone is hurting these days.
“Does anyone ever ask you?” I counter, answering his question with one of my own. He looks surprised. “Don’t think I don’t notice how you seem to have a sixth sense about everyone else, not to mention the ability to get anyone talking, but you don’t seem to share much of yourself.” I tilt my head slightly when I see my words must’ve held some truth, because Dino immediately lowers his eyes and finishes tying the scarf around his neck. “I guess that’s a no. I can tell how uncomfortable it makes you to be the focus of attention.”
In two steps, he’s in front of me and leans down to touch his forehead against mine. “You see too much,” he mutters with a little smile.
“Pot meet kettle.”
He lifts his head a little and smirks. “Smartass.” Placing his hands on either side of my neck he presses an unexpected kiss to my forehead. “Look after him,” he mumbles against my skin. “You’re good for each other.”
With that he lets me go, leaving me lost for words. My eyes snap to the door when I hear a muted exchange and am surprised to find Tim leaning against the doorway.
“I got fired today.”
CHAPTER NINE
Tim
“Look. I don’t know what exactly happened between you, and I don’t for a minute believe the accusations, but the reality is, this multimillion dollar project is very important for the city. One we can’t afford to lose. After cons
ulting with the legal department, the only acceptable option is to terminate you, effective immediately. Security will escort you out.”
His words are on perpetual replay in my head.
Terminate you, effective immediately.
The logical side of my brain tells me it was the city’s only possible option, but the rest of me revolts against the injustice of it all. A complaint of sexual harassment was filed against me, and unless I was dealt with internally right away, legal charges would be filed against me and the city. The large international hotel conglomerate Portland had just signed a contract with, would be no match for the municipality.
What had seemed like a minor glitch in judgement had turned into a fuck up of epic proportions.
Sexual harassment.
The bitter taste of bile fills my mouth. How ironic, seeing as the only person in this equation guilty of any type of harassment would be the one crying foul. A rush of anger at the hungry bitch, unwilling to accept rejection, burns my stomach.
Twenty years...twenty fucking years of hard work and loyalty, of coloring inside the lines—reduced to this?
I’m not sure why I sought Ruby out. In that first wave of shock, all I knew was I needed to ground myself in her warm dark eyes. I’m a fucking selfish bastard, to look for some kind of comfort from her after the way I treated her.
Yet here I am, halfway drunk, with hours of Ike’s brand of comfort under my belt, watching Dino kiss her and hating that even more. I glare at Dino when he passes me on his way out the door, but he stops and puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Not what you think, brother,” he cautions under his breath before heading out the door.
“I got fired today,” I blurt out when Ruby turns around and spots me.
Her mouth falls open and she immediately takes a few steps toward me. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, stepping a little closer. “What happened?”
She asked that question earlier, but I couldn’t get the words to form then. Now they’re wanting out. “It’s a mess,” I start, closing the gap between us. As if it is the most natural thing in the world, she slips her arms around my waist, puts her cheek against my chest and hugs me tight.
Her body pressed against me is soft all over. Cushiony and inviting. Without thinking, my arms slip around her and I bend my head down to rest against her hair. My eyes close as I let the comfort of holding her wash over me. Too soon, she releases her hold and I have to let her go.
“Sit,” she says, indicating a chair as she turns to grab two coffee mugs off the shelf. “Tell me.”
And I do. I tell her everything, from the first moment I realized Brenda had set her sights on me, the lapse of judgment when I finally asked her for dinner, to the utterly demoralizing walk to my car, accompanied by security and toting the sparse accumulation of twenty years on the job in a single box. I don’t even stop to drink the coffee she slides toward me as she sits down. I wince at the now lukewarm temperature when I finally take a sip.
She quietly listens until I’m done. “I can’t believe it. That is so unfair,” she says then, shaking her head in disbelief.
I feel about two feet tall. This woman, who just days before opened herself to my judgement, didn’t hesitate to step up to my defense. And what had I done? I’d walked out of her apartment, avoided her for days, and left her to believe she wasn’t worthy.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I apologize, leaning over the table to grab her small hand. “I’ve been a fucking dick to you and here you are, being nothing but supportive.”
The tight smile and shoulder shrug show me it still stings, and makes me feel even more of an ass.
“What are you going to do?” she asks me, clearly eager to steer the conversation in a different direction. I let her hand go as she sits back in her chair.
“Not much I can do. I have a week to go over the written dismissal with a lawyer. From what I remember him telling me, I get twelve months severance and will keep what I’ve paid into my pension, if I sign an agreement of non-disclosure. They don’t want me fighting it or talking with anyone.” I rub my hands over my face. I’m so goddamn tired all of a sudden. “Guess I have to figure out if fighting them for wrongful dismissal is worth it.”
“The best way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time,” she says, and I have no idea what the fuck she’s talking about. It must’ve been clear on my face because she smiles and clarifies, “Pam tells me that whenever things seem too big or too overwhelming for me to overcome. A reminder to break problems into manageable pieces and tackle them, instead of trying to solve them all at once.”
Good point. One I understand on a rational level but am not so sure is easy to implement.
I can’t contain a yawn and immediately Ruby jumps up. “You should get home. Get some sleep.” I push my chair back as well.
“What time are you done?”
She takes a quick glance at the clock before turning back to me, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “Now,” she admits, quickly followed by, “but you should go ahead.”
“Ike took my keys. Says he’ll drive me home when I’m ready to go.” I curb my smile when I see her fidgeting. “And I won’t be ready until I see you home safe. It’s across the road, Ruby,” I enforce, when she opens her mouth to object. “I’m walking you to your door.”
Grumbling, she follows me to the bar where I grab my coat and tell Ike my plans, while Ruby gets her things and says her goodbyes.
Once outside, I drape my arm over her shoulder and tuck her into my side. I tell myself it’s to protect her from the sting of the wind, but the truth is, I like the feel of her body against mine.
When we get to her building, she slips from under my arm and sticks her key in the door. “Thank you for seeing me home,” she says over her shoulder, in an attempt to dismiss me. I choose to ignore her and push the door open for her, following her inside the lobby. Her response is an eye-roll that draws a chuckle from me. I like her even better with her claws out.
“Home is to your front door, Betty Boop.” Her eyes grow big at my use of the name, and I smile in response. “I see you’ve heard it before. You remind me of her. Dark curls, full lips, big eyes and curves that go on forever. It suits you,” I inform her, watching her face soften as I lean in. “I may have had a little crush on her when I was younger.” I put my hand in the small of her back and lead her to the far side of the lobby.
“You remembered,” she says quietly, as we pass the elevator and move into the stairwell.
“Nothing about you is easy to forget.”
Walking down the corridor on her floor, I slip my hand under the mass of hair to cup her neck and when we reach her door, I use it to turn her to face me. She glances up at me through the thick lashes that shield her eyes, but they can’t hide the look of uncertainty. Her hand comes up to rest on my chest, almost without thought, and equally mindless, my head dips down and my lips brush hers. Full, soft, and sweet, and I go in for another taste. This time I stroke the tip of my tongue along the swell of her bottom lip. When I pull back, her mouth is slightly open and her eyes shine with curiosity. Leaning in for the third time, I slant my head a little when my mouth covers hers, slipping my tongue inside. Sweet spicy heat. That’s what she tastes like; the rich flavor of a dark mole poblano.
Her hands clutch my shirt, but other than that her response is surprisingly timid. Still, the tentative touches of her tongue against mine are fuel to my fire. If I don’t put a stop to this now, I may not be able to rein it in. She deserves more than a quick groping against her door, and I need some time to sort my head. She may have had a hard life, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be hurt. Last thing I want to do is hurt her, so I have to figure out where my mind is at.
“I’d better go,” I whisper against her lips, feeling her stiffen up immediately and dropping her hand from my chest. “Don’t,” I caution her, taking both of her hands in mine and lifting them against my chest. “You are hard to resist, Betty Boop, and it kills me t
o walk away, but if I don’t, I’m no better than any other man you’ve ever encountered.” She pulls at her hands, but I’m not letting her go. “I want to have a clear head when we go there. I need you to believe it’s you I want to be with. I need you to feel it. With all that’s happened this past week, I think we both need to clear our heads.”
Ruby’s eyes are down, but she nods her head in understanding. I let go of her hands and place mine on either side of her neck, lifting her chin with my thumbs before pressing a last, soft kiss on her lips.
Ruby
“He hasn’t been around at all?”
We just finished cleaning up after last night’s Christmas dinner. Something Pam apparently does every year for the women and children, who happened to be at the shelter at that time. I hadn’t celebrated Christmas, in any form, since I was a young teenager and had it not been for Pam’s insistence I join her this year, I probably would’ve just stayed in, doing my best to ignore the overt family festivities everywhere. I’d already turned down both Syd and Viv’s offers to join them. If I had to admit, part of me was waiting to see whether Tim might have plans that included me. When Pam asked what he had been up to yesterday, I told her I didn’t know. Pam’s expression was incredulous at the news I hadn’t seen Tim in two weeks.
The first few days after the episode outside my door, I’d been grateful for the respite, still reeling from the unfamiliar and somewhat disturbing feelings his touch had invoked in me. In all the years I was forced to allow men inside my body, I was able to avoid kissing. I know it seems ridiculous, when I’d had other parts of their anatomy in my mouth, but the intimacy of stroking someone’s tongue with my own had been my way to keep a small part of me pure. Futile, I know, when the rest of me was so liberally used and abused. It felt important. Maybe it had something to do with the fact the last person who kissed me had been the one to force me into that life. A promise to myself I’d never allow myself to be seduced against my will again. I don’t know. It’s one of many trains of thought my mind has been occupied with, since Tim broke that seal and caused long forgotten sensations to course through my body.
