Ari turned back to the fan club. “I can guarantee you, he’s not on the wine list. So, unless you have business here, get out of my bar.”
The girls gasped. “But—”
“But nothing.” She smiled and shooed at them with her hands. “I get it. He’s cute and not wearing a ring, but I can’t have you ladies loitering in the bar. I’m sure there’s sidework to go do somewhere.”
“Boy, you’re no fun, Ari. Just because you have a guy willing to bash heads for you doesn’t mean we’re all off the market.”
Despite the protests, they marched back toward the main dining room, but took their sweet time in doing so.
Ari picked up a bar towel and wiped away the fingerprints on the taps. “Ted, go ahead and take your ten now.”
“Thanks, boss.” He picked up a rack of glasses. “I’ll take these to the washer and pick up a fresh rack on my way back.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
With her peripheral vision she surveyed the other patrons in her area. Everyone had smiles on their faces and appeared to be having a good time, well, all but the corner table for two. Judging by their body language, she’d guess the couple was on their first date and all was not going well. The man was going to wear a landing strip through his hair if he kept running his fingers across his head.
“I tell you, the world gets stranger every day.”
Ari turned her head toward Handsome and smiled. “Hard to believe, huh?” she replied while inspecting the soda gun for cleanliness. “Just when you think there can be no more surprises, wham! The powers that be will prove you wrong.” She gestured to his nearly empty glass. “Can I get you another beer, sir?”
“Sir?” He laughed with an arched brow. “Sir is my father or my uppity superiors. Please, call me Marco.”
“I apologize. Would you care for another beer, Marco?” she asked with a slight bow.
“No, thank you.” He winked. “I need to head out soon anyway. I will take the check though.”
Yep. A charmer. “Coming right up.”
He gestured to the smartphone in his hand. “Have you been reading any of these stories on this crazy guy running around town like a superhero and scaring people with a sword?”
“No, I haven’t, but I’ve heard a few customers talking about it. I knew of a group of people in St. Louis who wore costumes and walked around like they were the Justice League. The police didn’t care much for their interference, but the local news stations had a great time with them.” She placed the check presenter by his glass.
“I think I’d prefer costumed kids to this guy. He looks serious. I wouldn’t want to mess with him.” He turned the screen in her direction.
The displayed photo reminded her of something straight out of the movies. A hooded stranger with a big sword posed in a lethal-looking position, as if he were ready to behead anyone who came near.
“That’s the one they’re calling the Claymore?” She wrinkled her nose. “That sword looks too tiny. I’m mean it’s big, but definitely not a claymore.”
“I’m with you on that one, sister.”
She went back to straightening napkins and restocking straws. “Is that picture even real? It looks so staged.”
Marco shook his head. “It’s real. I have friends on the force. They’ve seen this guy in person. I’m just surprised no one has recognized him. How many men do you know with this kind of build?”
“Actually, I…” She sucked in sharp breath as he flipped to another photo that appeared as if it were taken from a security camera.
There was something about the angle of his stance that brought forth the image of the first time she had laid eyes on Bale dressed all in black with a hooded sweatshirt and denim jacket as he had stared down those two hick goons. A fierce protector. Just like the man in the photo.
“Actually, I…what?” Marco’s question snapped her back into reality with a jolt.
“What?” she gasped. “I—oh, um, uh…”
As she floundered to form a sentence, hysterical laughter tickled her throat.
Yeah. Right. What was she thinking? Was she seriously entertaining the notion that Bale was this mysterious crime fighter?
Her Bale. Quiet Bale. Bale without any discernible occupation who goes on mysterious missions at night and sports several scars he claimed were inflicted by a sword.
Holy crap. The room spun as she swayed.
“Are you okay?” Marco stood and reached over the bar to grasp her by the elbow.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” She giggled and waved him away. “Sorry. I guess I’ve been on my feet too long today.”
“You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine. Really.” She reached for a napkin and blotted at her sweaty forehead.
“Did I say something to upset you?”
“No. No. Not at all.”
The furrow in his brow conveyed his disbelief. “For a second there I thought you were gonna say that you might have seen this guy in person.”
“Me?” Her laughter sounded hoarse. “Oh, no. I, uh. I was going to say that in the restaurant business we see all types of people of all shapes and sizes. I’m certain I’ve seen men with similar builds before.”
“I bet that a pretty girl like you has probably dated a few too.”
Heat raced across her cheeks. “Ah, see, I knew you were a charmer.”
He held up his hands and smiled a boyish grin. “Nope. Just calling ’em like I see ’em.”
Thankfully Ted returned in a fanfare of rattling glasses, relieving her from making a bigger fool of herself. She inclined her head at their guest. “Have a good night, Marco. I hope you’ll come visit us again.”
He reached for his wallet. “Oh yes. I’m positive you’ll see me again.”
With one last nod, she focused on placing one foot in front of the other until she reached the office she shared with the dining room manager.
“Ari? What is the matter?” Amaryllis called out from her office across the hall. “You appear distressed.”
“I’m fine.” She drew a breath and called upon her best smile as she walked into Amaryllis’ domain. She already had strangers fussing over her. She didn’t need the queen of all fussers to think she was off balance too.
Amaryllis stood behind her desk with fashion magazines and fabric samples spread all about the desktop and along the floor. Miranda, her event planner, sat on the loveseat with a notepad in hand and a blue colored pencil clenched between her teeth. For the last three days the two of them had been neck-deep in silverware and fabric samples as Amaryllis planned her latest party. The woman did love to celebrate, no matter the occasion.
“Hey,” Miranda mumbled and nodded in greeting.
Ari smiled back at the woman who was dating Amaryllis’ best friend. She liked Miranda, who too had been adopted into “the family” and understood how overwhelming it could be having Amaryllis as a fairy godmother. If ever Ari had a doubt that the Kilsgaards were too good to be true, Miranda was there to assure her that she hadn’t fallen into a rabbit hole and landed in a world of make-believe.
“Hi. Is this all for the Imbloc celebration?” Ari plucked a scrap of white, fluffy fabric from one of the piles.
“Yes,” Amaryllis replied. “What do you think of that one? Too frilly?”
“Depends. If you use little touches in just the right places, I think it will look right festive.”
“See.” Miranda grinned around the pencil.
“All right. Order some of the fluffy white fabric as well. Now.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze at Ari. “What has you so upset?”
She matched her boss’ stance. “Who says I’m upset?”
“Women’s intuition. What happened? And I won’t let you go until you reveal all.”
From the small amount of time Ari had known her, she was well aware the woman was more than capable of following through on the threat.
“Why doesn’t anyone believe me when I say that I’m fine?”
Amaryllis arched a fine dark brow.
“All right.” She huffed. “I’ve been thinking about Bale and me. There are a lot of great things going on between us and a lot of uncharted territory. I’m just feeling uncertain about the future.” Which was mostly the truth.
“Bale?” Miranda spit out the pencil. “You’re dating Bale? I thought you were just friends.”
The alarm in her voice made Ari’s scalp tingle. “We were. Are. It’s blossomed into something more. Is that a problem?”
“What?” She glanced at Amaryllis, who stared back at her as if she dared her to say anything negative. “No. Not at all. That’s…great. Good luck with that.”
What the hell did that mean?
“Ari.” Amaryllis came around the desk and took her hands. “I understand where you are coming from. Lucian and I had quite a time of it before he realized he was madly in love with me. Do you want to talk to about your concerns?”
Sure. My boyfriend may be a sword-carrying crime fighter. What do you know about that?
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. We’re good. New. Adjusting. But good. You know how much of a sharer Bale is.” She laughed.
“Oh, that man.” She sighed. “He cares for you. I can tell. On the outside he looks about as involved as a brick wall. But on the inside he’s seething with emotion.”
“He seethes all right,” Ari heard Miranda mutter under her breath.
“And soon,” Amaryllis continued, “you will never have to question how he feels about you. Believe me on this.”
Ari tried. She did. But what if Bale was this vigilante? What was his motive for doing something so dangerous? And what did his secret mean for them as a couple?
Or, was this entire situation caused by fear and her heart was making up an excuse to cut and run before she got hurt?
Too many questions and the only person with the answers was Bale.
A jazzy disco beat shrilled from the pink phone on the desk.
“Ooo, it’s Lucian.” Amaryllis pressed the Call button. “One minute, husband. I want to talk dirty to you and I’m not alone.” She giggled as she skipped out into the hall.
The second she was gone Ari was in front of Miranda. “Why don’t you like Bale?”
She looked up in surprise. “I never said that.”
“You implied. What gives?”
Miranda set aside her notepad and stood. “Bale and I did not meet on the friendliest of terms. I agreed to give him a chance and I am still trying to do so, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t scare me.”
“What happened?”
She glanced toward the open door. “I don’t think Amaryllis wants me to say.”
“Well Amaryllis isn’t in love with him.” Once the words slipped out she slapped her hand over her mouth with a surprised gasp.
How was that possible? She couldn’t be in love with a man she obviously didn’t know.
Saints preserve us, she was. Or at least was awfully damn close.
Miranda looked just as shocked. “You’re in love with him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. Fuck. Look, Miranda. I know we’re strangers, but if you have anything to say about Bale, please tell me. I should know.”
Miranda shot another glance at the door and stepped closer to whisper, “Bale stabbed my boyfriend.”
“What?” she shouted then immediately lowered her voice so as not to alert Amaryllis. Okay. That was not what she was expecting. “Jorges? Bale stabbed Jorges? When? Why?”
“It was when Jorges and I first met, and I don’t know a lot of the details. All I was told was that there was a misunderstanding and everything was worked out. The only reason I’m still freaked out about it is because Jorges is so secretive about what happened and he shares everything else with me. And you have to admit, Bale is a pretty intimidating guy. I think he knows he scares me because he’s always been extra polite whenever we’ve crossed paths, but I’ve seen the scar on Jorges’ side and it’s not pretty.”
“I can’t believe Bale stabbed Jorges.” She raised her hand to stop any potential objection. “I’m not saying that I don’t believe you, I’m just stunned that it happened at all.”
“As I said, Bale’s always been a gentleman around me, but I’ve seen what he’s capable of. Just proceed with caution.”
Proceed with caution. Right. So far nothing having to do with Bale had been about caution. For a woman who vowed to take it easy with relationships, she had blown every promise she had made to herself to smithereens.
For the rest of her shift her mind ran in circles until she was ready to collapse with exhaustion. Whom should she believe? What should she believe? Did she confront Bale about her suspicions or bury her head in the sand until catastrophe struck?
And if he was this vigilante?
Ugh, that was what made her stomach roll the most. How does one react to that type of information? Give a big thumbs-up with a “good for you” and a slap on the back, or shout “What the fuck are you thinking?” Neither option felt right.
“Thanks for the info, Miranda.”
“I hope everything works out for you, Ari.” Miranda patted her on the arm. “I really do.”
For the rest of her shift her mind ran in circles until she was ready to collapse with exhaustion. Whom should she believe? What should she believe? Did she confront Bale about her suspicions or bury her head in the sand until catastrophe struck?
And if he was this vigilante?
Ugh, that was what made her stomach roll the most. How does one react to that type of information? Give a big thumbs-up with a “good for you” and a slap on the back, or shout “What the fuck are you thinking?” Neither option felt right.
As the clock drew closer to quitting time, Ari buried her head further into her work. She missed Bale, but she wasn’t looking forward to having to face him with all these doubts weighing on her shoulders. Maybe if she worked herself into the ground she’d pass out and wake up in Bale’s arms with the entire evening being nothing but an incredibly odd dream.
So she worked and worked and worked some more until a soft knock on her office door brought her head up with a startled gasp.
Speak, or rather think, of the devil.
Bale was wearing his customary black sweatshirt and denim jacket, which immediately brought to mind images of sword-carrying tough guys. The thought did not lessen her anxiety in the slightest.
“Ari, what is wrong?” Bale crossed to her side and knelt by her chair.
Like a feral cat backed into a corner, she lashed out with bared claws. “Why is everyone asking me that today? Am I walking around with a gray cloud over my head or something? Nothing is wrong.”
His eyes widened and he leaned back. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to upset you with my question.”
“I’m fine, okay. Just fine.”
“Ari.” He pinched her chin and drew her gaze up. With his other hand he rubbed at the furrowed area between her eyes. “I am sensing that all is not well. If you do not wish to talk about whatever is bothering you, I understand. I just want you happy.”
All the fight rushed out of her like water after a plug is pulled from a full swimming pool.
This man, this gentle giant who stared down at her as if she were a precious treasure was supposed to be a bad guy? The possibility was too difficult for her to believe.
“I’m sorry too.” She sighed and laid her hand over his. “It’s been a long day. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“You’re entitled to have a bad day, liera. My purpose is to make your bad day go away.” His soft smile, so rare, made her tear up.
“Thank you for that.” She pressed a kiss to his freshly shaven cheek.
He smoothed his palm over her hair. “I’ve come to see if you’re ready to go home. I don’t want you traveling at night on your own.”
“What about your bike?”
“I walked here.”
“Are you planning on meeting me at work
every day?” She smiled.
“Ya.”
Yes. That was all. No hesitation. So Bale.
“I’m almost ready. I need to do another sweep of the bar and make sure everything is square.” She shut down her computer. “Why don’t you wait here?”
“I promise I will not threaten any man who looks your way, if that is your concern.”
“I believe you. Almost.” She dropped another kiss on his forehead as she stood. “For my sanity, please, wait here.”
“Fifteen minutes. That is all I can give you.”
“Twenty, and the only reason I am willing to negotiate is because I understand you are trying.”
“Agreed.”
“See, look how well we worked that out.” She laughed on her way out the door.
Knowing that Bale meant what he said about coming after her in exactly twenty minutes and one second, she kept her final walkthrough quick and efficient.
Sooner rather than later she was going to have to address him with her questions. How many warning signs had there been with Anthony that she refused to acknowledge and it came back to bite a huge chunk out of her ass? As much as she wished to bury her head in the comforting sand, that option was not a possibility. The uncertainty alone was already turning her into a mentally unstable fruitcake. At some point she was going to break and the damage would be unrepairable.
When she returned to her office, Bale was waiting with her coat and purse at the ready. Lying in the bottom of her bag was the knife he had given her when they first met. That lethal-looking blade with the pretty stones. Was this another piece of evidence to prove her suspicions?
“Anxious much?” She swallowed down her nerves and slipped her arms into the coat sleeves. “Do you have plans for us or something?”
He trailed kisses down her neck. “Just to hold you in my arms. The weather is turning and it’s cold out there.”
“Maybe you should start dressing warmer.” And thank you for providing an opening for some probing questions. “Is that the only jacket you have?”
“Ya.”
“Well…have you thought about getting a heavier coat?”
“No.”
HeroRising Page 19
