Beauty and the Blackmailer

by Amorette Anderson

  I’m going to have to dig deeper, she realized. And I really have to talk to Christine.

  9

  Beauty

  Christine arrived at 2:00 for a short afternoon shift, and Adrienne and Sean headed out and were replaced with two other workers. Though Bridget tried to catch Christine alone for a moment, her attempts kept getting thwarted. Sebastian, who had showed up for his shift at eleven—actually right on time for a change—requested to be put on the register, which made it even harder to get Christine alone.

  When there wasn’t a line, Christine was busy giving Sebastian tips about placing orders on the touch screen. The few times that Bridget did manage to pull Christine into the back room for a few moments alone, something always came up out front. First Sebastian had an issue voiding out an order. Then he ran out of change and didn’t know where to get a new roll of quarters. Next, he abandoned the register altogether, despite the lunch rush-hour line, just to walk an elderly woman to her seat.

  “What is he thinking?” Christine scoffed as they watched Sebastian pull out the elderly woman’s chair. “He can’t just leave the register like that! And Pat Melhue comes in here everyday, and she’s got no problem seating herself!” Christine scoffed.

  What a frustrating day, Bridget thought as she collected her jacket and purse at the end of the day. I made zero progress, except to learn that my employees have been hiding their personal lives from me. Adrienne and Jeremiah... and Sean with his money problems...

  And why would they talk about personal matters with me? she thought sadly. I’m their boss.

  I can’t believe I’ve been so naive as to think we were actually friends.

  More than friends, even. I thought we were family.

  She glanced up at the photograph of the entire staff out at Big Bobby’s Burgers on the night of Sean’s birthday. With a heavy heart, she pulled it down. We’re not a family, she thought, as she let the photo flutter into the trash. We’re coworkers.

  She let her staff go at 6:15. It was easier to finish up the last few closing tasks on her own than to keep up a stream of small talk with them. She was exhausted from the long day of keeping her guard up. As soon as she locked the Glitter Cup doors at 6:30, she headed across the street. It was Fish Taco Thursday at Big Bobby’s, and the thought of some good food lifted her spirits.

  Before stepping inside the busy restaurant, she called her dad. He sounded as worried as she felt, and it was painful to tell him that she was no closer to retrieving his folder. He reported that he’d visited the police station again, but that they were still dragging their heels about assigning a detective to his case. She felt even worse as she got off the phone with him than before she called, and headed inside.

  The popular restaurant was packed, and incredibly loud. A crowd in the foyer alerted her to the fact that there was going to be a long wait. The hostess, a girl that Bridget had seen many times before, caught Bridget’s eye. “You here by yourself tonight, Bridget?” she called out above the noise.

  Bridget nodded.

  The hostess winked and waved her forward. “I got one seat left at the bar, just for you. Come on—follow me.”

  Bridget followed the friendly hostess, but almost made a U turn when she saw where the hostess intended to seat her. There was one empty seat at the bar—and it was right next to Sebastian.

  It’s been a long day, she thought. I just feel like eating in silence. I’ll just tell her to put in a to go order for me.

  Just as quickly as this impulse struck, another thought occurred to her. But maybe he’s heard something from the staff. I should ask him.

  It was too late to turn around without being seen, anyways. Sebastian looked her way. He even gave a faint smile, which was rare for him. He'd been sullen all day at work, especially in the afternoon. If I turn away now, I’m going to seem rude, Bridget thought. She didn’t want to hurt Sebastian’s feelings, so she sat.

  The bartender poured out the beer she requested. She felt awkward sitting next to Sebastian. For some reason, he confused her like no one she’d ever met. It was hard to get a sense of who he was—there was something mysterious about him that she couldn’t help but wonder about every time she saw him. She couldn’t deny the attraction she felt, which was complicated in its own right, thanks to the fact that he worked for her.

  She took a long sip of her beer, and told herself to just calm down. We’re just two people eating dinner side by side, she reminded herself. It’s no big deal.

  He had a beer in front of him, too. He was on his phone, and as soon as he hung up, he lifted his beer and turned to her. “I think that showing an old lady to her seat qualifies as ‘helping,’ don’t you?”

  Bridget didn’t really want to talk about work. She knew Sebastian was referring to his time spent with Pat when he was supposed to be on the register. He went on, “I held her elbow. I walked next to her. I pulled the chair out.”

  Bridget took another sip of beer, and then set the glass down and said, “Sure, it would have been helping if Pat was impaired, mobility wise. But she can walk just fine—it’s her hearing that’s bad.”

  “Is that why she didn’t answer me when I talked to her?” Sebastian asked.

  Bridget nodded. She actually felt sorry for Pat. The elderly woman must have been quite surprised when Sebastian took her elbow, uninvited. “If you want to be helpful, you have to first know what people need.”

  Sebastian sighed. “You sound just like my dad. He just said something like that on the phone, too. I guess that’s the hard part—knowing what another person needs.”

  “It’s not so hard,” Bridget said.

  “Maybe not for you,” Sebastian said. He took a drink of his own beer, and fell into a brooding silence.

  Bridget put in her order with the bartender, and then watched a minute or two of the baseball game that was playing silently behind the bar. Sebastian’s food arrived, and Bridget saw that he’d ordered the fish tacos. He didn’t dive in, and Bridget wondered what he was waiting for.

  “Oh, don’t wait on me,” she said.

  He remained silent. For a reason she couldn’t understand, she blushed. There was something about him. On the surface, he was sullen and abrasive, but there was more to him, brewing just beneath that rough exterior—something smoldering and bright that made her senses come alive.

  “I guess I got used to thinking mostly about myself,” he said abruptly. “I think that’s my father’s point. I’ve forgotten how to think about other people.”

  “Are you and your father close?” Bridget asked.

  He sipped his beer, and thought over the question.

  She waited, her heart thudding against her chest wall with intense anticipation. She felt as though there was an inner Sebastian that she was about to get to know. It was as terrifying and exciting as approaching a caged, wild beast, and trying to pet it. She felt as if she was reaching a hand tentatively out, waiting to see if she’d get bitten.

  Thankfully, he allowed for the contact—he didn’t bite. “We used to be close,” he said softly. “When I was much younger. I used to go to his office with him... sit on his knee when he worked.” He shook his head. “I must have been just about three. Haven’t thought about that in a long time.”

  “I used to go to work with my dad, too,” Bridget said. “He’s a scientist. One time, there was an explosion in his lab, and he singed off his eyebrows.” She laughed, remembering the incident. “Thankfully, my eyebrows stayed intact. Mom didn’t let me go to work with him anymore after that.”

  Sebastian was quiet.

  Bridget continued. She felt nervous, though the degree of the butterflies in her stomach barely made sense to her. “Mom left when I was out of high school. She’s in Minnesota now. I think she got tired of watching after him. He takes some looking after, my dad.”

  “He’s an inventor, right?” Sebastian asked.

  Bridget nodded. She couldn’t help but frown as she thought about her father. He didn’t
deserve this trouble.

  “Have you figured out who’s blackmailing him yet?” Sebastian asked.

  Bridget shook her head. “Not yet.” She eyed Sebastian. Should she tell him what she'd discovered so far?

  The weight of her day felt heavy on her shoulders, and she decided to speak about it, with the hopes that it might unburden her some.

  “I’ve figured out that at least two baristas have a motive for blackmail,” she said.

  “Who?” he asked.

  She leaned in. “Just between us... okay?”

  He nodded.

  “Thanks... Adrienne is a mom; she has a little boy at home. She wants to put him into a new school with a pricey tuition. It’s much more than she can afford, and I know she’d go to great lengths for him, so...”

  “So you think she may be feeling desperate for cash,” Sebastian finished. “Makes sense. And who’s the other?”

  “Sean,” Bridget said. She sat back a bit. “That one’s harder. I know he’s in a financial pickle, but I don’t know what it is exactly. Something with his friend Timmy and a place called Base Camp.”

  Again, Sebastian nodded. “That’s right...” he said. “Sean mentioned Base Camp to me today.”

  “He did?” Bridget asked. She was surprised. Sebastian had only been working with Sean for days, yet he’d heard of the place. “What is it?” she asked.

  Just then, her plate arrived. She could smell the fresh white fish. Fresh green avocado chunks and juicy tomatoes spilled out the sides of the golden tacos, and crisp lettuce served as a bed. She felt her mouth water as she inhaled the welcome smell. She was starving.

  “You look way too excited about an entree that costs just a few dollars” Sebastian said with a laugh. “I can’t believe they’re that good.”

  “Just wait,” Bridget said. “You’ll see.”

  She felt even more excited for Sebastian to taste the food than she was herself. She lifted a taco in her hands, and then waited as he did the same. They bit in at the same time, and Bridget almost laughed aloud as she heard Sebastian emit a guttural groan. “Oh wow,” he said, once he’d swallowed. “That is good.”

  “I told you,” Bridget said, wiping her mouth before going in for a second bite. She washed it down with beer. She was starting to feel more comfortable around Sebastian, and she didn’t think twice before saying, “So what did he say about Base Camp?”

  Sebastian was apparently still too wrapped up in the tastes he was experiencing to think about Sean. “It’s been way too long since I’ve had a real meal,” he said, before taking another enthusiastic bite. He grinned as he swallowed, and then said. “I do not recommend living off of protein bars and saltines for dinner for three nights in a row.”

  Bridget laughed again. “Your private chef’s still on vacation, hm?”

  He nodded. “And cooking instant noodles in a cup is harder than one might think.” He met Bridget’s eye while he sipped his beer. She sensed there was a story behind his statement.

  How in the world had he messed up noodles in a cup? she wondered.

  She chuckled. “I’m afraid to ask,” she said, shaking her head.

  He laughed, too. “It’s better you don’t,” he agreed. “So... you want to know about Sean’s Base Camp? It’s the name he gave the house he’s building for himself.”

  “House? I thought he lived in an apartment.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “He told me he’s working on a tiny house, and he’s calling it Base Camp. I guess he thinks of himself as a mountaineer—that’s what lots of climbers and hikers call the base that they use while they’re getting ready for an expedition.”

  “He’s always liked skiing and hiking,” Bridget said thoughtfully. “So it’s under construction?” Some of Timmy’s email was beginning to make sense.

  Sebastian polished off one taco. Before starting the next, he said, “Yeah, he said it’s almost done. Apparently, he designed it himself, and he plans to move in as soon as some final pieces are in place. He showed me blueprints. It's so small. I mean, my ya—” he stopped short and cleared his throat. “I—uh—I really didn’t know houses that small existed.”

  Bridget narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like he’s really excited about it. Why didn’t he tell me?”

  Sebastian shrugged.

  “That’s so weird. I work with him all the time, and he never mentioned it.”

  “He said it’s someplace that snows a lot ... I forget where. I don’t like the snow. I much prefer surfing to skiing, though a good ski vacation in the Alps isn’t terrible. He seems very excited about skiing.” He took a drink and then continued. “Oh yeah, that’s right... Upstate New York,” Sebastian went on.

  “But that’s hours away,” Bridget said. “How is he going to get to work?”

  “Maybe he’s not,” Sebastian said. “And maybe that’s why he hasn’t wanted to talk about it with you. I mean, you’re his boss, right?”

  Bridget felt a sinking sensation in her gut. Sebastian was right. She blew out a frustrated sigh. “Wow. You’re right. Why would he tell me? I’m his manager.” She shook her head. “This week has been a real eye opener in that regard.”

  “How so?” Sebastian seemed genuinely interested.

  Bridget tried to put her frustration into words. “I hate how complicated things get sometimes... you know? I wish that it didn’t matter what role a person played—I wished we could all just relate as equals.”

  She focused on her meal for a minute, and ate the last few crunchy bites of her taco. “I thought I knew my employees. Now, I feel like I’m finding out that in a way, they were just putting on an act.”

  She lifted her beer, took a long swig, and waited for Sebastian to speak.

  10

  The Beast

  Bridget set her beer down and fell silent. Sebastian wondered what she was thinking about.

  Her words resonated with him, but he wasn’t sure why.

  He ate in silence while turning over her words in his mind. She’s upset because her employees are just putting on an act, he thought. But aren’t we all?

  He looked up and watched the bartender work for a moment. He was a big guy, with a bald patch on the top of his head that reflected the lights from above. He spoke in a cheerful voice. Yet behind his jovial nature, what was going on? He was acting out the role of “bartender.”

  What role have I been acting out? wondered Sebastian.

  He thought about his jet setting lifestyle, his shallow relationships, and his closet full of designer clothes.

  Now that all of that had been taken from him, who was he?

  The past few days, he’d been reduced to the bare necessities of life. He’d had no employees to delegate things to, no fancy meals to eat, no one to compete with on his surfboard. And the way women looked at him was entirely different, too. Sometimes he saw them glance with disapproval of his outfit, or their eyes would slide over his scar and a look of pity would cross their faces. When he stepped off of the bus or paid for his groceries with the last quarters from his tips from the day, he received the same looks.

  Yet, I’m still the same person beneath it all, he thought. What’s the same about me? Is that my truth?

  The bartender approached. “How’s the food over here?” he asked. His belly bounced up and down when he spoke, and his cheeks scrunched up in a friendly smile. “Pretty mean taco, ain’t it, bud?”

  “Very good,” Sebastian said. He was surprised at how gruff and foreign his voice sounded. He tried to modify it. “Thanks... um... for asking... buddy.”

  This seemed to make the bartender feel happy, and Sebastian felt a familiar faint tickle in his heart. It felt nice.

  Maybe there was something to what Bridget had said. Maybe others were his equal—beyond the roles set for them by society.

  “You want another drink, my man?” the bartender asked.

  Sebastian nodded. He knew he had to be careful with his spending, but if he walked to work the next day instead of taki
ng the bus, he could afford to buy Bridget a drink, too. “And one... ah... one for Bridget here... if she wants one.”

  He looked to Bridget, who smiled and nodded. “Sure... thanks, Sebastian.”

  It felt so good to draw the smile from her. She’d seemed so upset as she talked about the blackmailer.

  He fell into silence again and finished his second taco. When their drinks arrived, he sipped the frothy beverage. Something about the cool drink and the spices from the fresh pico de gallo in his meal was perfect. He wondered how many delicious meals he’d missed out on in his lifetime by avoiding establishments like Big Bobby’s.

  On the outside, it looked like such a dive. But the reality was that the food was just as good as many of the gourmet establishments he frequented.

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” he said thoughtfully.

  He turned to Bridget. She was nodding. He thought he saw her eyes dart to his scar. He let her look.

  “I guess there’s usually a lot going on underneath the surface—for everyone,” he said. “Maybe we’re all alike in that way.”

  She nodded. “That’s certainly been my experience,” she said softly. “It’s hard to really get to know another person, isn’t it?”

  Her tone was so soft and gentle. Her words made Sebastian wonder if she felt lonely and separate at times, just like he did. It had never even occurred to him before that he was lonely, but it was so obvious now.

  Her eyes, which were looking down at her plate, now lifted to meet his. He felt that warm, tickling sensation in his heart, and a glowing sensation spread through him as he looked into her eyes.

  Is she talking about me? he wondered. Does she want to get to know me?

  The noise and hubbub of the busy restaurant faded into the background. It was as if he and Bridget were the only two at the bar.

  “Maybe... we just let the surface stuff kind of take over,” she said quietly. “We become the roles that we take on, and we forget who we really are. We put on an act to please others... to impress others... and in the meantime, we lose ourselves.”