Sapphire Ice

by Hallee Bridgeman

  At another stoplight, Tony looked at her again and forgot what he was about to say as he watched her hair tumble out of the tight bun that had confined it all day. Robin closed her eyes and ran her fingers over her scalp, making Tony wish he were the one doing that. He looked back to the road in front of him in time to see the light change to green. "I imagine you see a lot of temper tantrums there."

  "People are people. I like most of my customers."

  "You don't mind the excessive lifestyle?"

  With a smile, she said, "What do I know of excess? I know of some lifestyles I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies. What I see at Benedicts is just another way of life."

  "You don't wish it were you?"

  Now she snorted. "Yeah, right. Because I'd fit in as well as a square peg." She turned her body as much as her seat belt would allow. "I don't care about stuff like that. You can't imagine how good my life is compared to what it used to be. I work hard. I work honest. And my sisters are taken care of. That's the only thing that matters to me."

  They reached their destination and Tony found a parking space. The ways he could carry that conversation could take hours, could go deep, could go life-altering. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy the next hour or so.

  When he pulled into the parking lot of the Museum of Science, Robin was confused. Tony tapped the clock on the dash before he turned the car off. "Ten minutes to spare," he said with a wink.

  He was out of the car in a fluid movement and had her door open before she even had her seat belt off. He took her hand and helped her out of the car, but instead of releasing her, he just shifted her hand to his other and walked with her to the museum entrance.

  "What are we doing here?" She asked.

  He gave her hand a squeeze as he opened the door for her. "Going to the movie. I told you." At the admissions desk, he bought two tickets to the IMAX theater and steered her past the cafe, the store, and to the theater. There he bought a huge tub of popcorn, a box of chocolate covered raisins, and two drinks. Robin smiled as he flirted with the teenager behind the counter and realized that the tension was gone from her shoulders and neck and she felt lighthearted, almost carefree.

  Tony turned to hand over her drink and caught her eyes. For a moment he stared at her, then winked and picked up the rest of the goodies. "Shall we?"

  They watched a space documentary presented in 3-D. She sat next to him in a darkened theater on a Monday afternoon, two hours before a work shift started, eating buttered popcorn and chocolate covered raisins, and watching a 3-D movie. Her first experience with a 3-D movie, even, which made her duck the first few times a roving comet or an exploding star headed in her direction.

  Some time after he set the empty tub at their feet, Tony took Robin's hand in his. She threaded her fingers with his and settled herself as close as the theater seats would allow and just enjoyed it. Enjoyed herself – enjoyed him – enjoyed being there with him.

  When the lights came on and the world returned, Robin found herself wishing for just another few minutes. But time wouldn't allow it, especially at rush hour. So they gathered their trash and left the museum.

  In the car again, this time headed toward Hank's Place, Tony stopped in the dead-stop traffic and put the engine in neutral. He turned his head and looked at Robin, happy to see the relaxed glow on her face. "Did you enjoy that?"

  She smiled as she rolled her head on the seat to look at him. "That was fun."

  "Are you interested in space and the cosmos?"

  With a shrug she turned in her seat so that she nearly faced him. "I don't know. I've never looked into it before." Not wanting him to think she was trying to discourage conversation, she said, "What about you?"

  "I am extremely busy." He inched the car forward. "I have very little free time to pursue any intellectual pursuits. However, anything having to do with the majesty of God's creation interests me on a purely emotional level. A friend saw this show with his kids and assured me that it contained nothing that would insult my belief in Creationism, so I've been looking forward to seeing it."

  She nodded, digesting this new information about him. "You're pretty much unapologetically a Christian, aren't you?"

  His laugh surprised her. He shook his head while he grinned and let a minivan in before inching forward some more. "Pretty much," he said with a smile.

  "Do you go to church and stuff?"

  A break in the traffic allowed him to shoot forward three or four car lengths. "And stuff." When he could take his eyes off the road again, he looked back at her. "If you want to come with me some time, just let me know. I'd love to have you by my side."

  What little she knew of church didn't hold any appeal to her. "Uh, thanks. But no thanks."

  Tony shrugged and found a spot to surge forward half a block. "It's an open invitation. And I reserve the right to ask again."

  THE next day, Tony showed up outside of Benedicts in a stretch limo. When Robin climbed in, she saw the picnic he had laid out on the floor of the limo, complete with a red and white checked tablecloth.

  "What is this?" She asked, shedding her coat in the warmth of the interior of the car.

  "Well," Tony said, sitting on the floor with his back against the base of the seat. "I wanted to take you on a picnic, but it's so cold outside."

  Robin laughed and accepted the bottle of water from him as the limo pulled away from the curb. "You're from Boston, aren't you? You're going to let a little autumn air get in your way?"

  For a brief moment, he had a flash of the past. The shiver that went through him was more than a memory. "I don't do cold." He opened the picnic basket at his side and dug around until he came out with a bowl of grapes. "Soon it will be time for my annual migration to The Keys."

  "Florida?" That sounded so far away to someone who had never been outside of the greater Boston area in her life. "What's there?"

  He tipped his water bottle toward her as if toasting. "Not cold."

  "Ah," Robin said with a wink. "Got you."

  Tony held his hand out. "Do you mind if we bless this food before we eat it?"

  Robin paused, hesitated, then placed her hand in his. She politely bowed her head, but didn't listen much to what he said. Instead, she just listened to his voice, felt the touch of his hand, and wondered. Wondered who this man was who was such a huge financial success, but who wouldn't eat until he'd prayed to God to bless it. What did he think of her, if at all, and her lack of prayer, her lack of God?

  Having seen the darker side of the world, of humanity, she wondered how there could even be a God. Who let little girls get beaten, starved, terrified, raped? What God would allow that? What God would turn His back on mothers who pumped their bodies full of chemicals, who latched on to any man who would take her and her three children in, regardless of the consequence to the daughters?

  Maybe Tony didn't know about such darkness, so it gave him an ignorant faith and allowed him to bee-bop from the Keys to Boston and back again without a care in the world. Maybe that's how he could get by with believing what he believed.

  He'd said "Amen" and squeezed her hand. She raised her eyes and realized he hadn't released her hand. She sat in the seat and he sat at her feet and held her hand in his, looking at her face. When she finally focused her attention on him, he smiled. "Thank you for sharing this meal with me."

  She ran her tongue over her lips in a nervous gesture. "I don't really know what to do next."

  He held her eyes for several seconds before letting go of her hand. "You enjoy your meal," he said, handing her a napkin and a bowl with a lid. "And when we're done, you will be at Hank's in plenty of time to get ready for work. Maxine packed your uniform for me."

  ROBIN had about five minutes to spare to get dressed. Tony watched her rush through the back entrance to the staff rest room in order to change. He followed more slowly, stopping inside the kitchen door to get a cup of coffee. As he turned, he met Hank's watchful gaze.

  Hank stood on the outside of the s
tainless steel counter, talking to the kitchen staff through the warming lights and to the wait staff who stood around him. He kept talking while he measured Tony, and never one to be intimidated, Tony returned the stare just as thoughtfully. When Hank finished his predinner rush meeting with the staff, he dismissed them to get back to work and met Tony at the wooden table.

  "Robin is like one of my own," he said without preamble.

  Tony took a sip of coffee and leaned back against the table. "Glad she has you," he said.

  "I'm not going to take a liking to some rich playboy playing games with her."

  Tony set his cup on the table behind him and straightened. He reached out and slapped Hank's arm in a masculine sign of agreement. "Neither would I, brother," he said. He looked at his watch. "I have a dinner engagement. Have a good evening."

  CHAPTER 8

  ROBIN smiled and headed to the table.

  "Hiya."

  "Hiya yourself, Casey."

  "Alright, then."

  After getting a cup of coffee, and with a near groan, she leaned back in the chair and propped her feet in the one across from her. "How's the world treating you?"

  "Well, now, here and there, mostly." He lifted a finger to a sous chef and leaned under the heating lamps so that she could hear him over the din of the busy kitchen. "You'll be wanting some of my pie to go with that coffee."

  "I would, yes." She stifled a yawn as she brought the steaming cup of coffee to her lips.

  A uniformed sous chef handed him a platter, which he slid under the lights and nodded at a waitress. She set the hollowed out bread round filled with steaming chili in front of Robin before returning to wait for her order. "You'll eat that first."

  She shook her head. "Really, Casey, I'm not hungry."

  "You's looking a bit piqued lately, Robin. You eat that before you get any of my pie." Turning, he put his hands on his skinny hips and barked a few orders to the dinner prep crew.

  Feeling a bit like a scolded child, Robin picked up the spoon and took a bite. The spices teased her tongue with just the right amount of heat. Not even thinking about it, she took another bite and another. "Piqued?" she asked with a smile after she had consumed half of the bowl. She broke off a piece of the bread and slowly chewed.

  "Ayah. You don't take care of yourself, girlie. Too busy looking after others." He shifted a perfectly fried onion that sat on top of a juicy ribeye and held the plate at arms length, checking the appearance. Only when it visually pleased him did he slide it to the lingering waiter.

  "I take care of myself just fine. I'm just tired. I had to work a breakfast shift this morning on top of the lunch." And now she faced a full Saturday evening and night. She looked down, surprised that she had emptied the bowl. With a contented sigh, she finished her cup of coffee and grinned at Casey as he personally set a slice of pecan pie in front of her.

  "You's shouldn't be working two jobs. That girl Maxi is working now, and Sarah's mighty capable of it."

  The sweet crunch of the meaty nuts satisfied her tongue too much to form speech right away. Instead, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the flavors. Only after she had swallowed did she open her eyes again, and found a newly refilled cup of coffee in front of her and Casey sitting across from her. "You only sound like Hank when he's not around, Casey. Will I look forward to nightly lectures when he's gone full time?"

  He threw his head back and cackled while he slapped his knee. He laughed for about fifteen seconds, then he stopped, shook his head, and abruptly stood and bustled back over to his command perch. "Just take care of yerself, missy. I kinda like having you around."

  She pushed away the half eaten pie and stood to get ready for work. "Two more years. Then I can slow down." She considered the date and performed a quick mental calculation. "No wait, not even. This semester's half over by now."

  Noise from the bar section of the restaurant invaded the room as the connecting door swung open. Robin ignored it, supposing one of the other bartenders was getting supplies before the dinner rush began, until Casey spoke. "You'll be wanting something to eat this early, Mr. V?"

  She turned her head and prepared herself for the skip of her heart that suddenly started occurring whenever Tony walked into a room. "No thanks, Casey I'll just grab a coffee."

  He strode across the room with a liquid grace a man shouldn't have, squeezing her shoulder as he walked by. With a sigh, she sat back down as he fixed himself a cup of coffee and lowered himself into the chair across from her.

  Robin didn't think she'd ever get used to looking at him. She thought after seeing him every single day for a week that she might possibly become immune to his looks, but his handsome face made her heart skip a beat every time. Because of her nonstop work schedule, they could not enjoy an actual evening out. Instead, he showed up in the parking lot of Benedict's every afternoon at three. He had something new and fun to do every day. Movies, picnics on the floor of a limo, rowing, video arcades.

  He had never approached her at the restaurant during working hours before. He'd made plans for that afternoon, but Robin had begged off, exhausted from the double shift she'd worked at Benedicts. She wondered if cancelling their date is what prompted this impromptu meeting.

  "Tell me something," he said, reaching under the table and pulling her feet into his lap. Before she could protest, he had slipped off her shoes and his fingers and thumbs were suddenly doing the most delicious things to her arches.

  "Hmmm?" Unable to stop herself, she melted into the chair and leaned her head back, closing her eyes.

  "I've been paying attention to that little tip jar you have on the bar, not to mention the credit card tips and the cash the customers hand you personally."

  She opened an eye and looked at him from under her lashes. "So?"

  "So, between Benedict's and here, six days a week for both of them, you make a tidy sum."

  Robin could barely concentrate on his words. His hands felt so powerful and so tender all at once. She didn't have the energy to do anything more than enjoy the foot rub. Last night she'd gotten exactly four point two hours of sleep. As she sat there, she had a minimum of eight hours in front of her. "What about it?"

  "Are you on drugs?"

  She opened one eye. "Don't irritate me when you're doing that with your hands." His fingers inched up her calves now, kneading and soothing. Robin had no idea how much her calf muscles ached until he rubbed the ache right out of them.

  "I was just wondering why someone who makes what you make in tips in a single day, combined with what Maxine would have started making at the barest minimum, why you would live in the apartment you live in, and drive around in that hunk of junk you drive that isn't going to start one night out here at one o'clock in the morning." His voice became steely, but his hands stayed soothing, gentle with just the right amount of pressure.

  She spoke without thinking about it. "Tuition."

  For the first time since he started talking, his hands paused. "What tuition?"

  She opened her eyes, slowly sat up and drew her feet from his lap. "Sarah's." Under the table, her feet sought out her shoes and wiggled back into them.

  He stared at her. "The numbers don't add up, Robin. Maxine easily makes – "

  "Stay out of it, Tony. It's truly none of your business."

  His eyes flashed while his jaw tightened. "I'm making it my business."

  She stood and pulled her peppermints out of her pocket. "Not until I do." He opened his mouth to speak, but she held a hand up to halt him. "No. Not everyone can wake up with the luxury of knowing they have enough money in the bank to never go hungry, to never be cold, to never have to worry about transportation for the rest of their lives." She stood and downed the remaining coffee in one swallow and popped a mint into her mouth.

  "You think I don't know that?" He sat back a bit and crossed his arms across his thick chest.

  "I think you have it so good that it's easy to wake up in your penthouse apartment and forget that there are mortal
s down below you who have to struggle while you send your blessings up to a god who lets children starve." She slapped both palms on the table and leaned forward. "I vowed that I would get my sisters through school. Me. Not with anyone's help, not even from them. They would have the chance at a life that our mother wasn't going to allow. I put Maxi through, and I'm putting Sarah through, and forget anyone who says I shouldn't or I can't or I look piqued when I do."

  He stood as well and leaned forward until they stood nearly nose-to-nose. "Don't try to place me in a category, Robin. I won't fit."

  She snorted and straightened. "Careful, Antonio Viscolli. You'll choke on your silver spoon."

  For a split second, the heat in his eyes made her feel a little bit frightened, then he muttered something in Italian under his breath and came over the table to her side and grabbed her arm. "Come with me."