Just a City Boy (Midnight Train Series) (9 page)

“Get your butt out here and give me my gun!” I yelled. Gone were my Southern belle manners and my easy pace. I was furious. You can take a girl out of Texas but you can’t take Texas out of the girl.

“I mean it!” I shouted. I marched to my bedroom, since he wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room. My place wasn’t that big. He was nowhere.

I started flinging things around in my room, looking for my box of ammo and my gun. They weren’t anywhere that I could find.

I went through his bags of things in my front room. As I searched them, I piled them up. They were getting tossed out the window as soon as I was done. I’m sure my below stairs neighbors were through with the nonsense of me stomping around last night and this morning, and of our shouting. Hopefully it would all be over soon.

He must have taken my gun with him, wherever he went.

I sat on my haunches and looked at his bags of things. I got up and tried to open the window. It was painted shut. I cussed and fussed at it, and tried to pry it up, but it wouldn’t budge.

Time was running out and I had to get ready for the lounge tonight.

I gave up and got dressed. Tonight’s look was a little more sleek and bluesy. I chose my favorite, a long black gown with subtle shimmers to it. I had a fur stole and long dangly earrings. Once again I tied on sneakers and carried my fancy shoes in my purse.

I cussed some more, missing the weight of my protection against thugs, punks and gangbangers. Downtown Detroit was no walk in the park. I just had to cross my fingers tonight and hope for the best. At least I had my phone and my mace. I wondered where exactly Ray was, what exactly he was doing and why exactly he needed my gun to do it. Smelled like old fish on a hot day, if you asked me. I perfected my makeup on the ride over and arrived a little early for my show.

Saturday nights usually consisted of a more sophisticated crowd. My set included older favorites like Cry Me a River and Blue Velvet. Andy and I really got into it on Saturday nights. He always begged me to lay on the piano, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I would walk out into the crowd a little bit. I could feel my adrenaline start to flow the closer I got to my stop. I loved Showtime! I loved singing my heart out, feeling the energy of the audience flow between us. I would be lying to myself, though, if I didn’t admit at least some of my giddiness was because I was hoping to see Zack again. Even if he turned his back on me, it was still a nice view. Not a bad perk of working in the lounge.

This job was my life now. It was my main reason for staying in Detroit when home and family were back in Texas. Mama and Daddy were gone, but I did have my baby brother and a passel of cousins. I smiled thinking of Curtis Lee. He was a builder and doing well for himself in Texas’ booming economy. Unfortunately, Harley thought my smile was for him, and he snapped me out of my reverie.

“Hey beautiful. Come back to my place after your sets tonight?” he asked me with a smile I wouldn’t pick up with a pair of tweezers.

“In your dreams, Harley,” I said and pushed my way past him. His smelly bulk resisted, but he knew not to mess with the entertainment before the shows started. Brenda met me in the hallway outside my dressing room.

“I’m sorry, Lauren. Harley is getting worse isn’t he?” she asked me.

I appreciated her candor.

“Yes, Brenda. I know you try not to hire A-holes but I really think you dropped the ball with this one,” I said with relief.

She scrunched her face, and tears formed in her chocolate eyes. “He’s my sister’s boyfriend. I told her I’d give him a try. I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I looked back at Harley watching our conversation from the front door. He wouldn’t know what we were talking about but he made me nervous anyway.

“Look Brenda, just do what you need to do. I can take care of myself,” I said with false bravado. Having Ray make off with my gun kind of shook me up. I had to pretend that I still had it, because my aura of confidence might be what really helped keep me safe as I walked around this dirty city I was coming to love. I went in my dressing room and turned on the little lamp. I switched out of my sneaks and wound up the beautiful straps that wrapped halfway up my legs. They were tall heels too, and I felt super elegant when I wore them. The slits up the sides of my black dress revealed my shapely calves and I felt like the goddess of the underworld. My makeup matched with thick slanted black eyeliner in a Cleopatra style. I primped a bit in my dressing table mirror, warmed up with some scales and made my way to the stage.

I wondered when or if Zack was working tonight. Maybe the environment turned out to be too much for him. Maybe he wasn’t coming back. Maybe he didn’t like my forward ways and I scared him off. Mama told me I was too mouthy for most men. She said I needed somebody who would tell me to clap my trap on a regular basis.

Dear Mama. She said a lot of things, God rest her soul. I was still trying to find my way through the wreckage of my memories of when Daddy did what he did. But Mama taught me to love music and as much as she complained about my tendency to bringing stray helpless creatures home, she was the first with a dish of cream for the three-legged cat, a soup bone for the mangy dog, a slab of pie for the hungry new neighbor boy. Yes as much as she complained, she had her own devils. She had probably forgiven Daddy before it even happened. It was time to escape.

I stepped up to the mic and smiled. All thoughts of my childhood and Harley’s harassment fled at the first chords Andy struck.

“Now you say you’re lonely; you cried the whole night through…” I began singing soft and low, bringing the emotion up from my toes and letting it ripple out in waves washing over the crowd.

Every song I sang had a moment. A place where the audience clicked with me, and we were in love together for three minutes. I could always tell when I hit it, and the chills got me every time. Tonight it happened right before the chorus, and my eyes drifted up and back and Zack walked in the club right then. My eyes met his, and my heart slowed to almost backwards.

His gray eyes zeroed in on mine. I saw his gaze sweep over me from my elegant updo to my red-painted toes peeking through my strappy stilettos. I thought I could see his jaw clench from clear across the way, and I tingled all over. The mood in the room went from bittersweet blues to fever-pitch want, and I was afraid the entire audience could see my naked yearning for this man who wore the past on his shoulders like a cloak.

I sang on.

When the song ended, the crowd actually stood to clap, even though it was just the first one. They felt it too, but the only one I wanted to impress was Zack. I searched him out in the back of the room after my note ended, and he slowly raised his hands and began to clap. His hands came together in slow deliberate claps that beat in time to my pulse. The methodical rhythm thrummed slowly as honey off a spoon and I began to sweat. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. My mouth went dry and I found myself wanting to fall into his arms.

I shook myself out of it, and swallowed as much spit as I could muster so my voice wouldn’t crack. I had a bottle of water I could get in a minute. I just had to make it through my next piece which was a little shorter.

The moment between Zack and I was gone. He’d turned and replaced Harley at the door. Once again, Harley was gone for the night. Relieved, I began to sing.

I remembered to smile, and then I was lost in the lyrics and I didn’t have to remember anything. I was Lauren the performer, enchanting the audience and bewitching myself with the music.

I loved my job.

The crowd gave me a standing ovation after
I Can’t Quit You Baby
and I bowed a few times, embarrassed by the love I was feeling from the room. I loved it though. I presented Andy so he could join me at the front, and they loved him too, and we held hands and soaked it up for a few minutes. We were just a pair of part-time performers in a B-club in bankrupt Detroit, but tonight we felt like Diana Krall and Elton John in Market Square Arena.

We walked off together and Andy leaned over to me.

“You were amazing tonight. Singing for anyone special?” he asked me with a sly grin.

“I don’t know Andy, were you playing for anyone special?” I winked.

He patted my butt and shook his head. “Jack works every Saturday night, you know that darling’,” he said to me.

“I’m sorry, Andy. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he could come out and see you sometime?” I asked him. This was the standing argument between Jack and Andy. Andy wanted to feel support for his music career, even if it was just a part-time gig, and Jack consistently treated it as Andy’s hobby that he would eventually grow out of.

Andy’s smile faded for a minute as we stood at the bar and waited for Matt to get us our complimentary drinks.

I didn’t drink alcohol, ever, but Andy usually had a brandy to calm his nerves.

Matt brought my virgin mojito.

“You were amazing tonight, Lauren. You knocked my socks off!” he said.

“Aww, thank you Sugar,” I said and sipped the zippy lime flavor through my straw. I casually turned my head to see if Zack was still at the door; he was.

It looked like he was going to try and ignore me again tonight, which really hurt, but then I remembered that applause he gave me, and I felt a thrill tingle deep inside me. He had clapped only for me. I knew it. I had to squirm on my stool for a minute, just recalling the moment. Heat crept up my neck and ears. Mama never warned me about falling for one of my pet projects. I quirked my lips around my straw. Just a few more sips and I had to get back to the stage for my next performance.

The crowd usually diluted with new people, thinned out, then picked up more guests as the evening wore on. People attending events at the conference center weren’t ready for the night to end and sought out Lonely Nights for the cheap entertainment but classy ambience. I was more than happy to oblige them. The wine flowed freely the later it got, and then the crowd started to get more colorful. It was the couple hours between 11 p.m. and 1 a.m. that I really felt thankful for the bouncers. Even Harley had kept a drunken stalker away from me a time or two in the last several months.

My second show of the night went off without a hitch, Andy and I took our bows and I hustled to my dressing room. My feet were killing me. I couldn’t wait to shove them into my fuzzy socks and sneakers. I had brought some black leggings to slip on under my dress too, for the chilly trip home.

I started to get a little nervous remembering the punks from the night before. What were the odds that people would leave me alone tonight? Not that great, to be honest. Saturday nights were even worse than Friday nights. I considered calling a cab, but that would eat up my tips from Lazy Eye’s today.

Packing everything up, I decided to just walk to the station like always. It would be fine. I still had my mace. I could dial 911 and not press send. And I could act like I still had my gun with me. All those other times, the predators had no way of knowing if I was telling the truth or not. They chose to believe me. It had to be the confidence I felt since Daddy taught me how to shoot. I would just work it.

I closed up my dressing room, said goodbye to Brenda and the girls and Matt, and walked out the door. Zack must have already left. I ignored that pinch in my heart.

He reminded me of that old dog Ticky. I called him that because he had about 493 ticks in his ears, all bloated and feasting off that poor animal. He came around every few days and I tried all kinds of remedies to get those nasty buggers off of him. Flea powder, tomato juice (I got mixed up and gave him the treatment for skunk smell. Ticky wasn’t too happy about that bath. Neither was Mama,) herbal remedies and what not. It got to the point where he didn’t want to come near me because I had tried so hard. He finally stopped coming altogether. Dumb ticks. I blamed the little bloodsuckers, but really he hadn’t come to me to get those ticks out of his ears. He just wanted some food and some attention. I just couldn’t pay attention to what he really needed because the ticks distracted me. I felt sad remembering.

I walked briskly along under the streetlights with my big purse hitched over my shoulder and my warm scarf wrapped around my neck.

I looked around. So far so good.

About halfway to the train stop, a large lone figure stepped from out of the shadows. I recognized his shape right away and my heart sank.

Harley.

I didn’t change my pace. When I got to where he blocked my path, I spoke in a loud voice.

“Hey Harley, how you doin’ tonight? Did you hear my sets?” I sidestepped him casually and kept going, fighting the urge to run. I didn’t want to appear frightened.

“No,” he said. He matched my pace and put a beefy paw on my elbow.

“That’s too bad, it was one of Andy and I’s finer moments!” I said. I tried to project a feeling of happy oblivion. “Matt makes the best mojitos, you should try one some time. Isn’t it great working for Brenda? She’s the best boss ever!” I kept chatting. I could feel my pits itch as every pore released a bead of fear-drenched perspiration. I was going to ruin my favorite dress if this kept up.

“Brenda. That bitch is going to fire me,” he said in a growl.

Oh shit.
I thought to myself.

“No, she wouldn’t do that, would she?” I tried to sound consoling. This was going south fast. I felt his grip tighten on my elbow.