Rush_Hector & Millie

by Marianne Knightly

  Oh God. “I’d think it was jewelry.”

  Liz downed the next shot. “You’re being nice, ’cause you’re always nice, but this wasn’t nice. You’d think it was an engagement ring, right? I’ll give you the punchline: it wasn’t a fucking ring.”

  “Oh, Liz.”

  She downed the last shot and gestured for more. “I tore open the package, and inside was a signed golf ball. A signed. Fucking. Golf ball. I don’t play golf. I know not one fucking thing about golf. So, Frank finally walks in and sees me. He sees the package. He sees I’ve torn open the package. And do you know what he says to me?”

  Hector poured one more shot and she swallowed that, too. “He asked me why the hell I’d opened the gift. I said, because it was our anniversary and I thought it was for me. He said that gift was for a lawyer at the firm he’s interning at, and now he’ll have to get it re-wrapped before he went out for the night to go to that’s guy’s party. He made it clear that he was going, by the way, without me.”

  “Liz.”

  “Yup. That asshole made plans on our anniversary. Said he’d had them for months and didn’t think about the date. Told me we’d celebrate our anniversary later.” Liz turned to Hector. “More.”

  “Think you’ve had enough, Liz.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “You telling me you weren’t already drinking before you came here?”

  “Just some wine.”

  “How many bottles?”

  “More shots!”

  He shook his head. “They’ll hit you in a minute.”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  He poured a glass of water. “Start with this first. Then we’ll see.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “Looking after you, Liz. Not gonna apologize for it.”

  Liz’s lip trembled again. “You’re nice, too. Wish Frank was nice.” She loudly slurped her water through a straw.

  Hector leaned towards Millie and spoke softly. “Call Beth. See if she can pick her up.”

  “I can walk her home.”

  His eyes darted to her arm and his eyes went melty. She really liked when his eyes went melty. “You’re still hurt, baby. I’ll get her home if Beth can’t come.”

  Baby. Other men had called her that before. She’d hated it then. She was beginning to crave it from Hector, even though he’d only said it four hundred thirty-seven times.

  Yes, she was counting.

  “Amelia? You gonna call Beth?”

  Stop daydreaming about him. “Right. Yes. It might be easier to use Liz’s phone, since the number’s probably saved.” She turned to Liz. “Liz, could I borrow your phone?”

  “Hmm?” Liz swiveled on the stool and lost her balance.

  Millie caught her before she and the stool toppled over but winced when Liz accidentally hit her hurt arm in a bid to right herself. “Oops! Sorry, Millie.”

  Hector’s gaze was sharp on her, so she avoided rubbing her arm. “No, um, problem. Could I borrow your phone?”

  “Sure!” Liz dug through her purse, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Then she began pulling out items—lipstick, wallet, even tampons—looking at them, then tossing them over her shoulder with a ‘Not it!’ as she got increasingly tipsy at an alarming rate. All she’d had to drink must finally be hitting her. At this rate, she’d be full-on drunk in a few minutes.

  Millie reached for the purse. “Why don’t I find it? Is that okay?”

  “Sure!” Liz clapped a hand on Millie’s cheek a few times, harder than she probably intended. “You’re sooooo nice.”

  “Oh, um, thanks.” Compliments tended to make her uncomfortable, or at least they had in the past. Until today, she’d had a few Piers-free months for the first time in her life, as well as several Hector-filled months, so she was beginning to think differently. Simply not having to deal with Piers on a daily basis had made her feel so much better about herself. Hector’s words and actions had helped, too.

  Millie took Liz’s phone out, helped Liz unlock it, then scrolled through the favorites on her phone. Millie blinked when she saw her name there—she was a favorite?—and pressed Beth’s name.

  Beth’s phone rang to voicemail—it was now past three, so Millie guessed she slept through the call—but she rang back twice more, just in case Beth had put her phone into a ‘don’t disturb’ mode that may have prevented a call going through.

  “No luck. Beth doesn’t have a home phone, so I don’t know of any other way to reach her.”

  Hector glanced at Liz—who now had her cheek to the bar and was muttering ‘fucking Frank’ over and over again—then back at Millie. “Okay, I’ll walk her home if we can’t find a taxi. If only my damn car wasn’t still at the shop.”

  He tossed her a set of pub keys. “Go ahead and lock the doors. Clear out the rest of the customers and wipe off the tables. I’m going to start closing down the till and clearing out the bar. You have dishes, just pile them in a tray and I’ll lift it, hear me?”

  Millie nodded and rushed off. No one—especially no boss—had ever really cared if she’d been hurt. They only cared if she’d got the job done, Piers especially. He’d spent years ordering her around, finding ways to humiliate her if she wasn’t fast enough, taunting her if she deigned to ask for help, and punishing those who did assist her. As a result, it was hard for her to accept help or even ask for it.

  After finishing up with her last customers, she locked the doors and started wiping down the tables. Since the chairs weren’t heavy, she overturned them on the tables and then started mopping the floor.

  “Hector, could you take the dishes in? I want to finish up in the kitchen after I mop.” Frannie had done the major clean up, but she was responsible for cleaning the last of the dishes.

  “Sure.” He finished counting the money in his hands, then scribbled something on a notepad. He put the money down on the counter and walked around the bar.

  “You can finish the count first. I don’t mind.”

  “I got it.”

  “But you were in the middle—”

  He stopped in front of her and whispered softly. “I got it.”

  “Okay,” she whispered back.

  The corner of his lip quirked up, then he reached for the tray and took it to the kitchen. She was so busy watching him as he walked away that she didn’t notice Liz move. Millie was brought out of her stupor when suddenly money was raining down around her.

  “Wheeee!” Liz had gotten hold of the money he’d left on the counter—even though it had been on the other end of the bar from her—and was tossing it up in the air. “It’s raining!”

  Millie rushed over and tried to wrestle the rest of the bills from her. “Liz, you know Hector won’t like the, uh, rain.”

  Liz twisted her torso to the side, and her money-laden hands with it. “No!” Her voice had turned into a child’s. “Mine. My tips.”

  Thinking quickly, Millie reached into her apron and pulled out some bills she’d set to the side: tips from the tables Liz hadn’t closed before she’d left. Millie was planning to leave it for her—Hector always kept those kinds of tips in the safe—but she hoped she could lure Liz with it now. “Those aren’t your tips, Liz.”

  “Are so!”

  Millie held up the bills. “These are your tips. Remember? Remember I told you I’d hold these for you?”

  Liz’s body untwisted. “Those are mine?”

  “Yes. But if you want them, you have to give me the other money first. That money’s not yours.”

  “I want my money.” Liz dropped the bills in her hand and lunged for her, once again smacking her hurt arm.

  Millie grunted as Liz half-collapsed on her. “Liz! Stop. I’ll hand it to you.”

  “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

  Millie lost her balance and ended up on the floor. She frowned at the sticky feel of the ground under her hands—the pub floor, for some reason, was always sticky, no matter how much she cleaned it or how new it was—and tried to stand up.<
br />
  Liz straddled her, and Millie went down again with an ‘umph’. Liz tore the money from her hands and raised it above her head. “Miiiinnnne!”

  “What the fuck?” Hector hurried over. He couldn’t run well on his current prosthetics, but he moved faster than most would assume. He hauled Liz off her and settled her in an empty booth while she said ‘mine’ in a sing-songy voice.

  Millie tried sitting up again and was soon hauled to her feet by Hector. He kept his hands on her waist.

  His gruff voice had her heart pumping faster. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see her grab hold of the money.” She was such an idiot. If she’d been paying better attention, none of this would have happened. It was already half past three, but now it would be at least four when they finally finished things up.

  Then there was the work she needed to do once she got home, and all that with an aching arm.

  “I’m sorry.” She ducked out of his hold and started crawling on the floor, picking up the now sticky bills from the sticky floor and knowing her clothes were now sticky and dirty, too.

  “Stop apologizing. It wasn’t your fault.” He kneeled and gathered up bills, too. “I shouldn’t have left the cash on the counter.”

  She didn’t look at him, just continued her task. She also picked up the items Liz had thrown from her purse. “The money in her hands is hers. It’s her tip money.”

  “You sure none of that’s yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “Amelia—”

  “It’s not, all right? It’s not part of the bar deposit, either. You can count it.” She stood and walked over to the bar, dumped Liz’s things there, then bent down once more to pick up the last of the discarded money. She handed everything to Hector. “I’m going to finish up in the kitchen first.”

  “Amelia,” he called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

  Shit, shit, shit! She was such an idiot. Hector had kept his word about not letting their relationship affect them working together at the pub. He’d been so good about keeping things separate. Yet now here she was, mixing her feelings with work stuff and letting things go to shit because of it. She should’ve been watching Liz, not Hector’s ass as he walked away.

  Although, it was a really nice ass.

  She shook her head as she began washing dishes. She had to stay focused, and not on Hector’s ass. She was trying to get out of the constant cycle of living paycheck-to-paycheck while drowning in debt, and that required focus on her business. Unnecessary time spent cleaning up a mess that could have been avoided, meant less time at home later to make jewelry she needed to sell.

  Not to mention, if she’d been more focused coming to work, she might’ve been able to avoid Piers.

  She rolled the shoulder of her hurt arm. Asshole.

  Just when she was starting to trust her relationship with Hector, Piers had to come back into her life again and made her feel broken once more, like a chipped teacup that might function but would never be perfect.

  Hector deserved perfect.

  Piers wasn’t the only fucked up family she had. He was just the worst, depending on how she looked at it. She hadn’t even mentioned her mother to Hector yet. They hadn’t shared about their families yet, and she wasn’t going to mention her until at least Piers was out of her life for good, if that ever happened at all.

  Now that Piers was back—though he’d never really left—maybe it would be the last straw for Hector. He’d said it wouldn’t be, and she wanted to trust him so much, but years of broken promises by other people made it hard for her to believe him.

  Hector was different from them, though. A good different. A great different.

  She didn’t deserve different—that’s how Piers had made her feel. Her only brother had kept her under his control and spent years making her feel like less. With some distance from him, she was finally beginning to realize how low he’d kept her.

  She’d lived with less for a long time. Now, if she could trust Hector, she might almost be ready for something different.

  She loitered in the kitchen for a few extra minutes before she finally sucked it up and went back to the bar. She ignored Hector and finished up mopping, discarded the dirty water, and got her purse from her locker.

  “Almost done,” Hector said as she came out front again and slipped into the booth across from Liz, who had put her lips to the table and was blowing raspberries into it.

  “Liz, maybe you don’t want to do that.” She’d cleaned the tables, but still.

  Liz pouted. “I can do what I want! You can’t stop me. Fwww-ank likes to stop me, too. I can do what I want!” She slammed her hand on the table.

  Millie gave up. After the day she’d had, she was just too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to care, then she felt guilty for being too exhausted to care.

  Ten minutes later, Millie heard the safe door shut and Hector walked up to their table. “You clock out?”

  Shit! She was such an idiot. “No, I’m sorry.” She slipped out of the booth and ran to the register. After she clocked out, she turned and jerked when she saw him close. God, she could smell him. He wore the best scent; it wasn’t overpowering, it wasn’t off-putting, it was just…him. And it was lovely.

  “I’m going to shut things down. Be a second.” He hit the light switches behind the bar—which turned off most of the lights in the pub but not all—and disappeared into the office. He reappeared just as Millie was helping Liz out of the booth.

  “What do you think you’re doing? You shouldn’t be lifting her with your arm.”

  “Hector, I’m fine.”

  He looped an arm around Liz’s waist, putting her weight against him rather than Millie. “Your arm still hurts in two days when you’re on again, you’re taking a sick day.”

  Hector was one of the few employers in the area who gave his employees—part or full-time—full medical insurance and sick days. However, even with the decent hourly salary she made, she’d never make it without tips. “I have to work, Hector. Come on.”

  “Don’t argue with me.”

  “I wouldn’t if you’d be reasonable.”

  Hector set the alarm and walked them out, Millie following with Liz’s purse.

  After he locked the pub, he turned to her. “Fuck. Just like usual, not a damn taxi in sight. Come with us, then I’ll walk you home.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  His jaw clenched, and he adjusted his hold on Liz. “Are you sure Piers won’t be waiting for you on the way back?”

  Damn. He had a point. Though Piers hadn’t really bothered her at night before, he also hadn’t accosted her on the way to work like he’d done in the afternoon.

  He shook his head. “Damn it, I should’ve ordered a cab before we closed up. I won’t make that mistake again. Will you walk with us this one time? I can call a cab to meet us at Liz’s. They’re more likely to come for a pickup in her neighborhood than around here at this time of night anyway.”

  Taking a cab home? That was a luxury she’d rarely afforded herself.

  Liz had slumped more against him, and he adjusted his hold again. “Let me help you, Amelia.”

  God, how she’d love that. There’d hardly been anybody to take care of her; she’d been taking care of herself for a very long time. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know, baby. I’m not questioning your abilities.”

  Liz mumbled something.

  “I know, Liz. We’ll be home in a little bit.”

  Damn it, she was being an idiot again. She should be helping Hector, not forcing him to stand here while she asserted her independence. “All right. Let’s go.”

  He nodded, relief evident on his face. He pulled out a phone and called for a cab as they started walking towards Liz’s place.

  It suddenly hit her that here was a man who cared about the people around him. That was just the kind of guy he was. Helping Liz now, or how he helped Beth with something last wee
k, or Daley that other time.

  He cared about the people in his life, including her, maybe especially her.

  It had been hard for her to accept help in the past because people reneged or twisted it into something negative.

  Yet Hector had never done that. He’d helped her so much over the last few months. Even all this shit with Piers hadn’t made him pull away from her, though she kept waiting for it to happen. Maybe she could start trusting him a little more.

  She held Liz’s purse against her chest, as if it were a shield. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. For what?”

  “For…caring about me, I guess.”

  He stopped, and Millie bumped into him. “You can trust me, you know that, right?”

  “I’m starting to realize that.”

  He leaned towards her but kept Liz—who was now slumped against him—away from her. “You’re safe with me. You can trust me.”

  He’d said that before. A lot. He’d also shown it to be true. Maybe she should start trusting that, too. “Okay.”

  “You get me?”

  She nodded.

  He seemed to wrestle with a decision, then apparently made it. He sat Liz down on a nearby bench, and she slumped over slightly.

  He stalked towards Millie, locking eyes with her the entire way. “I think I need to make sure you get me.”

  She stepped backwards, jumping a little when she felt a lamppost behind her. “Hector?”

  “Get this, babe.”

  His mouth swooped down on hers, and he kissed the living daylights out of her.

  Chapter Eight

  Hector was kissing Amelia like he’d wanted to kiss her for months. Hard and hot, consuming every sense and breath they both had.

  She dropped Liz’s bag and slumped against the post. He held her up, one hand kneading her ass. His other hand cupped her nape and tilted her head the direction he wanted it.

  Her hands were fisted in his shirt, just above his hips. As she gripped, his shirt rose higher exposing his skin to the soft, late-night air.