Blackbird (9 page)

              “Yeah, why not. You want one?”

              “Me?”

              “Sure. We’ve all got something to drink to…or over. I’ve learned that by running all these bars. Practically everyone has a reason to drink.”

              “I don’t know if I should,” she said, a quizzical look crossing her face. Just as Robert was about to down the shot she said, “When’s the next drug test? I mean, I wouldn’t want it showing up on that.”

              He swallowed fast in an effort not to choke, then they looked at each other for a long moment. Her with a knowing slanted smile, he with his eyes widened in surprise. “You’re too smart for your own good, Chelle.”

              “Oh please,” she said refilling the shot glass. “If I was that smart I wouldn’t be working in a bar. No offense.”

              “None taken,” he said downing the second one. “How’d you guess?”

              She said nothing, simply raised her eyebrows as if to say,
really?
And then continued to wipe down the bar. “So, Chelle, where are you from anyway? You grow up around here?”

              She came to a dead standstill for a moment, now it was her turn to look uncomfortable. “Yeah. Born and raised.”

              “Where about?”

              “Around,” she said trying to look even busier than she already was. “You driving? Because I’m gonna have to cut you off if you are.”

              “You’d cut me off? That’s not nice,” he said, playfully.

              “I’m just doing my job sir,” she said, taking the whisky bottle from his reach and putting it back behind the bar.

              “I suppose you’re right. You don’t make the rules, and I hear your boss is a real hard ass.”

              She relaxed and smiled again. She had a smile that, when it was genuine, showed every tooth. Her large beautiful lips…and that lipstick…damn. She was downright sexy.  “He’s more of a minor nuisance. He’s not so bad.”

              “Well, you should tell him that sometime.”

              “Maybe I will.”

              After a moment of awkward silence that came from the realization that they were both flirting with each other, and probably inappropriately at that, Robert fished his car keys out of his pocket and stood. “Hey, looks like you’re finished here. Do you need a ride home? I could drop you.”

              “No,” she said a little too quickly. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

              “It’s no trouble. I’m wide awake. Don’t think I’ll sleep much tonight. I’m too worried about my mother,” he heard himself say.

              “Oh. Is she alright?”

              That one question and the tone of concern showed more compassion in a few seconds than his own fiancé had taken the opportunity to do in the last twenty-four hours. “Yeah, we had to put her in a home today. I just…well…it’s been a long day.”

              Chelle’s eyes grew sad and she leaned against the bar, coming closer to him. “That couldn’t have been easy for you. I’m sure you did what you thought was best though.”

              He hadn’t of course, and wanted to say so, but he figured he’d said enough already. “Yeah.”

              “Well, you should go home and get some sleep. They say things have a way of working themselves out. Maybe the whole thing will look better to you once you’ve had some shuteye.”

              “I think you’re right. Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

              “I’ll be fine. I have a ride coming anyway.”

              “Ok,” he said, not wanting to push. “You’re in tomorrow right?”

              “Yeah. Late one. Six to close.”

              “Ah. Well maybe I’ll catch you Wednesday,” he called heading out the door. Robert was working his hardest to stay casual, but the thought of not seeing her until Wednesday was too much. He’d see her tomorrow for sure. He’d just have to find an excuse to come back after his day work was done in the office.

              Chelle went back to cleaning up. “Later,” she said.

             
Definitely
he thought.

              Robert sat in his parked car for a long time, watching and waiting for both Chelle and Rick to leave. As he did he fiddled with the radio dial trying to distract himself, but nothing worked. He’d talked himself into following her to see where she went. Perhaps the other night was a fleeting moment of insanity, or perhaps he hadn’t seen what he thought he saw. Maybe he’d been mistaken about the person he saw entering the empty home. Tonight, he decided, he was going to find out.

              When Chelle and Rick finally emerged they stood outside. He waited until a cab picked her up before leaving, which Robert was thankful for. He was good to his people, and in turn they were good to one another. Chelle’s cab motored off down the street and he followed, letting a few cars get in front of him so as not to be noticed.

              As the glowing roof light made its way through town his stomach twisted in a knot, recognizing the way they were headed. Indeed the cab took her right to Oceanview Drive, but not to the same house. It let her out across the street and Robert watched as she paid the driver, then waited until he was out of sight to dart across the street to the empty Gwok residence, grabbing the key from the doorframe once more before letting herself in again.

              “Goddamit Chelle. What the fuck are you doing?” he muttered under his breath. He sat in his parked car trying to decide what to do. For a brief moment he was convinced he could actually knock on the door and have her answer and give him a rational explanation for all of this. He so wanted one, he couldn’t think of Chelle as anything other than decent and hardworking. There was no way she could be capable of breaking and entering, or squatting for that matter.

              Just the same as on the first night he watched there were no lights. What? Was she sitting in the dark in there? It didn’t make sense.

Chapter Nine

              Chelle thought she must have been losing her mind. The small kindness Robert had shown her had apparently gone straight to her head and she found herself distracted by thoughts of him for the remainder of the time she closed up with Rick, barely hearing a word he’d said even as they waited for her cab together. It had been a long night. The Mooseheads beat the Screaming Eagles five to four in overtime causing the place to fill up afterwards with happy fans who were in the mood to celebrate themselves into a drunken stupor.

              By the end of the night she wanted to collapse, despite the extra three hours of sleep her body had demanded that morning. Her alarm had gone off alright, but Chelle slept right through it. The wings always seemed to sap her energy for the next couple of days anyway and given the fact she’d been running on little or no sleep she wasn’t all that surprised. 

              She had been yawning her head off behind the bar for the last half hour before Robert came in. Suddenly after seeing him her body reacted like someone had given it a good dozen or so shots of espresso. Best of all he’d been alone, and then, break of all breaks, he sent Rick away and they had been alone
together
. As an extra added bonus, Bitch Billie was nowhere to be found.

              She smiled to herself as she curled up in her sleeping bag, hugging an old pillow to her as she tried to quiet her mind for sleep. She imagined Robert. Laying there next to her, the pillow his chest, his arms around her…possibly naked.

             
You’re pathetic Chelle,
she scolded herself. Robert didn’t have any kind of feelings for her other than the feeling that she was a good waitress, and he was short staffed. He was nice to her, yes, but he was nice to everyone equally. He wasn’t flirting with her at all…was he?

             
Give it up!

              She forced herself to think of other things as she drifted off, her body pressing for more sleep. Her subconscious had other ideas however, and all night she dreamed of Robert. His black curls, eyes, his arms…his
arms
…

              When she woke the next morning it was as if she could feel his arms around her, shielding her, protecting her. The sensation was so real for a moment that she was convinced the entire life she’d lead up to this point had been the dream, and Robert was the reality.

              Then as wonderful as she’d felt upon waking, she felt as dreadful upon realizing she was still in a stranger’s house, all alone on a concrete floor and having to get up and spend the day out wandering around until she could show up at the bar to work her ass off. Nobody had ever held Chelle like that, and she suspected nobody ever would. Especially Robert. Why would someone want a woman with a back that looked like it had been repeatedly put through a meat grinder when he had someone like Billie?

              Billie. The thought of her made Chelle want to puke, or run away, or both. While she wouldn’t see Robert today, there was a good chance she’d run into Bitch Billie because she routinely dropped by to micromanage the staff in the evening. Largely, everyone suspected, because Robert was not there to see what she was doing. It was going to be sheer hell after they were married. For some reason the thought of Robert walking down the aisle made her want to retch.

              It was five a.m. If she was going to get out of the house before anyone saw she’d have to be up and dressed in half an hour. She went upstairs to brush her teeth and put on some makeup, not noticing on her way past the Gwok’s phone that the message light was blinking furiously in the dark. Chelle liked to pride herself on her street smarts, but something that should have served as a warning sign to anyone with any sort of a clue in that area went completely unnoticed. Mostly because she was busy thinking of something…
someone
…else.

***

              Billie dropped her purse on Robert’s desk, or
their
desk as she liked to think of it. Until last night that was. He had spoken to her like she was just another employee here and the words had stayed in her psyche all night, festering and growing until she couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted to play boss? Fine, she’d show him who the real boss was going to be. To show him she was in control here she had, so far today, sent his call to voicemail five separate times and avoided him at work. She hoped he was feeling bad. That was step one. Step two would be to give him the silent treatment until he apologized and conceded that if they were to be married this would be as much her business as it was his. It was only fair.

              No matter what, she knew she had to keep asserting her authority here. In time he’d thank her. He was on a much too casual basis with the staff and although he didn’t see it, they routinely walked all over him. The bars were busy, yes, but they weren’t nearly as popular as they’d once been, back when Robert’s father had owned the place.

              Nobody had seen her come in and slip into the office and so it was time to make her presence known. Before doing that, however, she decided to lock her purse away in the bottom drawer. Even though criminal record checks were done on all staff, one could never be too careful. Nothing was illegal if you didn’t get caught, and according to the upbringing she’d had, was told that the working poor were very good at not getting caught. They had to be to survive. All the more reason to make sure they knew they were being watched.

              To her surprise the drawer was unlocked. That wasn’t smart. Not that Robert kept anything valuable in there, but since she’d been coming to assist, she’d made sure every drawer and door had a lock. Safety first. Before she could drop her purse down inside it she noticed something curled up at the bottom, sitting there like a snake. It wasn’t a snake but it was something, in Billie’s mind, that could have a bite just as sharp. A woman’s belt. What the hell was Robert doing with a woman’s belt in his desk drawer?

              Fuming she took it out and stared at it as hard as she could, as if the gesture itself could cause the item to give up its owner and the story behind it. Billie flung the belt down on the desk with a thud, knocking an empty coffee cup over in the process and reached for her cell phone to punch in Robert’s number. Her first instinct was to confront him. If he was cheating she would demand to know. Who the hell did he think he was, cheating on her? Probably with some trashy whore. One last fling before marrying. Typical.

              At the last moment she thought better of the confrontation and restricted herself to fuming. She’d let him know that she knew, but only when the time was right. Now wasn’t that time. She needed him to stew a little longer, perhaps a confession would come easier that way. He’d spend the rest of his life making up for it, that’s for sure.

              Billie strode out into the bar area where a good size crowd had gathered. It was busy for a Tuesday and several people were trying to get Chelle’s attention to order drinks and food. Bold as brass Billie stormed up to Chelle, who was carrying a good size tray of drinks to be served already, and said, “Why are there so many people waiting to be served? These people should have at least one drink by now.”

              Chelle gave her a cold hard look that said,
really?
“We’re short staffed, remember? We need another waitress on nights. Two people quit in the last two weeks. I’m only one person, Billie.”

              Billie’s stomach twisted into an angry knot and she could feel the little vein on her forehead throbbing. Chelle had an attitude and Robert lacked the nerve to put this woman in her place. He was lucky she loved him enough to do it for him. “You need to go faster. I expect everyone to have at least one drink in the next two minutes.”

              Chelle locked eyes on her and very matter-of-factly said, “Without an extra pair of hands that’s not going to happen. You’re welcome to put on a tee shirt and join me.”

              Join her? To Billie the idea that she would ever put on a uniform and serve drinks was an insult. That wasn’t what she was here for. It wasn’t who she was. Her father had always told her that in life there are two kinds of people. The people in charge, and everyone else. Billie was most definitely in charge. “Office. Now.”

              Chelle’s brows drew up in surprise and she pressed forward a step, despite the tray of heavy drinks, and gave as good as she got. “I’m not a dog. If you want to speak to me in the office you can ask me with a full sentence.”

              Billie could also give as good as
she
got. Now they were in the female version of a pissing contest. “How’s this for a complete sentence? If you don’t put down that tray and follow me to the office you can leave right now and not come back.”

              Chelle turned on her heel and dropped the tray on the bar, drinks unserved, and stomped into the office, Billie following right behind. “Sit down,” Billie said.

              Chelle continued to stand as Billie took her stance on the authoritative side of the desk. “No thanks,” she said. “Have a feeling I won’t be here long.” She picked up the belt and began putting it through the loopholes of her tight black jeans. Suddenly Billie Winters, who was never jealous of anybody, felt a twinge of jealousy about the smooth curve of Chelle’s waist and hips. She was shorter and slightly meatier than Billie, but Robert had never complained about her body, or done anything to suggest he found such things attractive.

              “That’s your belt?”

              “It is,” she said, offering no other explanation as she buckled it up. Chelle crossed her arms, not afraid of her in the least. “Something you want to say to me?”

              “Yes, actually. You’re fired.”

              “Am I? Are you the boss now? Because I didn’t get that memo.”

              Billie crossed her arms over her chest, standing up as tall as she could in a primitive gesture, declaring herself the alpha female. “Here’s your memo, honey. You’re trash, and we don’t want your kind in here. Robert was going to let you finish out your shift tonight and let you go afterwards, but I think you can go now. You don’t belong here. Leave, and don’t come back.”

              Chelle, who had up until that moment had a look of absolute defiance on her face, seemed to crack under the weight of that last sentence for some reason. For half a second she looked like she may actually cry and Billie patted herself on the back for having struck a nerve. Whatever had come to the surface was quickly replaced by the defiance once again.

              “Fuck you, Billie. Fuck you and your fake tan and your fake hair and your fucking miserable attitude. You’re a rotten excuse for a human being. Go to hell!”

              Before Billie had a chance to respond, Chelle was out the door, slamming it with such force that it rattled all the vintage seventies photographs Robert had lovingly hung on the walls. Sitting with her head in her hands she felt, only for a fleeting moment, that she’d overstepped her boundaries here. She talked herself out of that quickly however, reminding herself that Robert was hers and nobody else’s.
I did what any woman would do in my situatio
n
she told herself.
I took out the trash
.

              In Billie’s mind Chelle was no better than an old beer bottle. None of the staff were, really. Once someone had served their purpose you had to cut them loose, especially in a place like this. And so what if Robert had fucked her? Every man was curious about bedding trash. Now, with her out of the way they would be better for it. He would thank her, she was sure of it.

Chapter Ten

              On his way home from work, Robert decided to swing by the nursing home and check on his mother. It had been a long few days and he was still tired, but shoved it down, promising himself he’d go to bed early tonight. As he pulled into the parking lot of the nursing home, passing the sign that said: Angel Manor, he felt the guilt that had been eating him alive rear its head once again. He’d been able to push it out all day with work, but now that he was here there was no way to avoid it.

              Couple that with the fact that he’d tried to get in touch with Billie several times today. They were obviously on the outs, and he needed to remedy that as quickly as possible. After a day of thinking about it he decided perhaps he’d been too harsh. They did have to find a way to run things together or they may as well just call it off. He’d hoped to see her after work and talk. He was sure she’d see reason. Then after being ignored all day he decided against that plan and would instead, simply spend some time here, before heading back to the bar to see Chelle.

             
Chelle…

              Just as he parked and was about to shut the engine off his phone sounded. It was Paul. Leaving the car running he allowed the call to come in through the speakers as he lay his head back on the seat, closing his eyes in anticipation of what he knew was coming next. He needed to know what was going on with Chelle, but was frightened to actually hear it.

              “Hey, Paul,” he said, greeting his brother.

              Paul dispensed with any sort of preliminaries. “Robert. Sorry I couldn’t get hold of you sooner but there was a three car pile-up and I was in trauma all afternoon. Just got out now.”