Mad Valentine: A Bad Boy Romance (Mad Valentine Trilogy Book 1) (4 page)

IX. Lucky 13

It took a little convincing, but I got Maggie and Archie to agree to go to the show with me on Friday night. At first Maggie asked if I was crazy, hanging around with some violent sociopath, but I somehow got her back on my side, explaining how kind he was, how poignant his writing was, and what old Stu had said. She reluctantly agreed to go, saying she didn’t like the idea of us getting any closer to Victor, and that she was just doing it to make sure I had some protection. But by Friday night she was excited for the show.

Victor knocked on my door at 9 p.m., as promised. I took a sharp breath in when I opened the door—he was disarmingly sexy in faded jeans, a dark grey button-up shirt open at the neck, and a well-worn black leather jacket. His dark brown hair hadn’t been combed back, and a lock or two fell into his dark eyes. I felt my heart pound as I noticed the way the door framed his tall, muscular body like he was some artist’s rendering of male perfection.

“Wow, you’re so punctual. I would have never guessed,” I said, joking lamely to overcome the sudden weakness in my knees.

“Surprise,” he replied.

Archie and Maggie were already there; we were having a few drinks before heading out. I offered Victor a drink, but he declined with a smile and a shake of his head.

“I’ll just have a couple at the show. Designated driver,” he said simply.

His prudence surprised me, especially coming from Merritt University’s most renowned violent sociopath. I raised my eyebrows and shot Maggie a look that said, “See? I
told
you he’s a stand-up guy.” She just cocked an eyebrow back at me and turned away.

Once Maggie, Archie, and I had finished the last of our drinks, we gathered our things and followed Victor downstairs to the sidewalk. There, parked on the street like some kind of nostalgic specter of the past, was the biggest, oldest, and blackest car I’d ever seen.

“You drive a ’61 Cadillac convertible El Dorado?” breathed Maggie with stars in her eyes.

Archie and I looked at her as if she were speaking another language. Victor looked at her with wide eyes and raised brows, clearly impressed.

“’62,” he corrected her. “You know your cars, huh?”

“My dad loves classic cars,” said Maggie breathlessly, entranced by the massive piece of black and chrome machinery in front of her. She traced a finger down a line along the passenger door. “He used to take me to classic car shows all the time. I didn’t really think I cared about it, but seeing an El Dorado here, in the flesh, in such good condition is…wow.” She suddenly looked up. “Are you driving us in this?”

I rolled my eyes. There went Maggie, questioning the obvious again. It was a habit of hers whenever she got emotional about things. But it was a little too much rapid-fire emotion and surprise for Victor to handle. He gave me a look that seemed like a plea for help. I just grinned and shrugged at him.

“Uh, yes?” he said.

“Oh, my god!” squealed Maggie. “El! We’re gonna ride in the El Dorado!” She ran to me with her arms outstretched like a child. I laughed and caught her in my arms.

“Yes, honey, we are! We sure are!” I laughed as she jumped up and down excitedly. I had no particular feelings about the car, but I was happy for my friend. I lovingly watched Maggie as she opened the door and slid into the backseat—she was grinning like a maniac all the while. Archie followed, and as I stepped my foot into the passenger side, I caught Victor watching me over the roof of the car with a soft, warm expression in his eyes. It made my heart feel like it was being gently squeezed with tender hands. I smiled back and quickly got into the front seat, then fumbled with the seatbelt. Victor got into the driver’s side, and, shutting the door, gave me a wink.

“Victor? Hey, Victor?” From the back seat, Maggie popped her head between us, clasping the bench with both hands.

Victor laughed. “Yes, Maggie?”

“Can you please—pretty, pretty please—put the top down?”

Victor looked at her happy face and grinned. “Sure. Give me a hand, will you?”

“Eeeee!” Maggie squealed again, and she clambered out of the car as Victor put the driver’s seat down for her.

Once the top was down and Maggie calmed down and everyone was buckled up and the radio was on a station that Archie approved of, we
finally
pulled away from the curb and glided toward town.

When we pulled into the parking lot of Lucky 13, I felt like I was in the movie
American Graffiti
. Young people were milling around, smoking cigarettes and flirting, and they watched as Victor expertly maneuvered the convertible into a parking spot that I never would have guessed was big enough for the Cadillac. Maggie looked all around her, drinking in all the attention. She looked like she was going to burst with pride. I noticed Archie was holding on to her arm, maybe in an attempt to ground her to solid earth.

Victor led the way into the bar amid the many pairs of eyes watching us. Inside, the bar was hot, packed, dimly lit, and a red light emanated from one corner. The opening band was playing, and the sweaty, loud space felt like the perfect venue for a Friday night show. I’d been to Lucky 13 before and had always liked it. I had a soft spot for dives. I bobbed my head to the music and looked around happily. I spied a young guy with long hair moving toward us. He had on a flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves over a white Henley shirt. He clearly took his fashion cues from the late Kurt Cobain.

“Heeeey, Victor. Thanks for coming, man,” he said.

“Dustin!” said Victor. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

They gave each other a handshake-hug thing, and Victor turned to me. “This is my friend Ellen—”

I smiled and shook Dustin’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

“—and this is her entourage, Margaret and Archibald.”

Maggie’s eyebrows shot up. “
Her
entourage? As if!” she cried.

“She wishes!” Archie chimed in. Victor laughed his deep laugh and suddenly we were all laughing.

“Hey, Valentine!” another voice called from afar. We looked to see two more guys moving toward us. One was slender and Latino, and the other was built like a linebacker—he looked like he could crush a bone in his bare hands. I wasn’t surprised to find that the bigger guy carried a pair of drumsticks.

“Hey, Jose. Hey, Mike,” said Victor, giving them both the handshake-hug.

“And
looking
like a fucking Valentine too, you pretty-boy mother fucker,” grumbled Jose, the slender friend. Victor just chuckled.

“Am I right?” the friend asked, turning to us. “I mean, look at this guy. Like a fucking model. Jesus, some guys have all the luck.”

“I’ll say,” Archie whispered and gave me a wink. I giggled, feeling pleased. I was nervous about what my friends would think of Victor with the rumor about him still fresh in our minds. But it seemed Archie, at least, was willing to give a handsome face a fair chance. I was grateful, and I grasped Archie’s hand happily.

This was great; I was starting to feel at ease. It was so nice to be here at the local dive with my friends, meeting Victor’s friends, just a casual group of us enjoying a Friday night together. Something in me felt very fulfilled.

“All right, you fruit loops,” said Maggie, eyeing Archie’s and my clasped hands. “Someone’s gotta go get us drinks, and I say it’s El. She needs to pull her weight around here.”

“What? Why?” I mock protested.

“I bought you your last five donuts, El. Count them,
five
. And don’t even try to deny it, you always want the chocolate-covered ones, which cost more,” she added matter-of-factly.

I flushed and glanced at Victor, who was grinning at us, clearly amused. I had to laugh; Maggie was putting me on the spot like only a best friend could.

“G and T, please,” she said, her hand on her hip.

“Rum and coke,” added Archie.

I laughed. “All right, fine, I’m going. And what would you guys like?” I aimed my question at Victor and his friends. They smiled and waved me off, declining a drink.

“But don’t expect snappy service,” I shot at Maggie as I walked away.

I ordered their drinks and got a Fat Tire for myself—I usually preferred beer to cocktails. I took a sip out of the bottle as I handed the bartender a twenty. It was cold and fizzy, and I felt perfectly content.

“So you’re a beer man, huh?”

I turned and saw Victor had sidled up next to me at the bar. He held up four fingers to the bartender, who nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve got a healthy appreciation for a good bottle of beer.”

The bartender lined up four whiskeys on the rocks for Victor.

“Are you a regular here?” I asked.

“The guys play here a couple times a month, so I’m here a lot,” he replied, throwing some cash on the counter.

“Well, thanks for inviting us. This is fun,” I said, smiling.

He smiled back and lifted his glass. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” We clinked and drank. Then, as he looked at me again, Victor’s face suddenly changed. Confusion played on his handsome features as something over my left shoulder caught his eye. I had no idea at the time what kind of an impending train wreck was standing directly behind me—I was blind and dumb in my happiness.

“Hi, stranger. I thought I might see you here,” a female voice purred just behind me. I whirled around to see a voluptuous woman in a red polka-dot halter top and a black leather mini-skirt. She had tattoos on her shoulders and her auburn hair was done up in a fantastic bouffant. She looked like a rockabilly pin-up girl. And standing next to her, I felt like nothing.

X. Mimi

“Mimi? What are you doing here?”

Mimi?

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Vic. Looking for you, of course.” Mimi was tall. In her heels, she stood a head above me, almost at Victor’s height. She just looked over the top of my head as if I weren’t even there, or as if my presence didn’t matter. I awkwardly took another sip of my beer.

“Well…what about LA?”

“LA, shmel-ay,” she said, waving off the question. “You know what they say, home is where the heart is. And my heart is right here.” She gave him a meaningful look and smiled a coquettish smile.

Oh, puh-lease! Is she going to bat her eyelashes too?

I rolled my eyes and pushed myself away from the bar. “Hey, I’m gonna take these back to my friends,” I said to Victor as I picked up the cocktails. Then I looked directly at Mimi and gave her a big smile. I wasn’t going to let
her
make me feel small, no way!

“Hey, it’s Mimi, right?” I said to the Amazonian woman, my hands full of drinks. She looked surprised that I was addressing her. She nodded.

“I’m Ellen, nice to meet you. I’m going to go join my friends over there, but feel free to join us later if you’d like.” I jerked my head toward the table where Maggie and Archie were. “See ya, Victor,” I said over my shoulder as I walked away.

As soon as I reached Maggie and Archie, I slammed the drinks down and chugged a few gulps of beer. I belched purposefully.

“Wow, what got into you?” said Maggie, daintily sipping her gin and tonic. “I haven’t heard you burp like that since last Thanksgiving, when you lost at Scrabble to my brother.”

“See that Rosie the Riveter lady over there?” I nodded towards the bar. “I think that’s Victor’s ex or something.”

“Oh,
lord
,” said Archie, furrowing his brows. “She looks like she eats pin-up girls for breakfast.”

“Exactly. And I told her she could hang out with us.”

“What?” they said in unison.

“Well, I wasn’t going to sit there and play the wall flower! I’m staking out my turf here, and if she wants to hang around with Victor, she’s going to have to deal with us!” I said, gesturing rather wildly.

Maggie and Archie looked at each other.

“Okay, back up,” said Maggie. “A. What do you mean by ‘us,’ exactly? We have nothing to do with whatever drama is unfolding in your head. And B. Why are you talking like some jealous girlfriend? You and Victor aren’t a thing. Or am I mistaken there? I know you like him, El, but I thought we talked about being careful around him. I don’t trust him, and neither should you.”

Maggie had thrown a bucket of cold water on me.

“No, you’re not
mistaken there
,” I mumbled, mimicking her. I glanced at the bar again. Mimi was standing closer to Victor now and was tracing something on his chest with her finger. Something she said made them both laugh, and she bent forward, exposing her ample cleavage and kicking her high-heeled foot behind her.

“Oh, are you
serious?
” said Maggie. Archie guffawed. I realized we were all watching her.

“Right? Am I right? That polka-dot lady is over the top!”

Just then, Dustin, Victor’s long-haired friend, joined us. “Hey,” he said. “You guys watching the freak show too?” He nodded over at Victor and Mimi at the bar and chuckled. “Looks like poor Victor’s been caught again.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded.

“That girl over there? She’s his ex. They were at school together at Merritt, but she graduated last year and went off to LA. He, uh, ended up taking the year off. Anyway, long story short, they went out for like three years, shacked up, the works. But she’s as crazy as they come. We used to call her the Black Widow.”

WTF?

“Wait a minute,” I said. “How is that possible? Victor seems to have pretty good judgment—” I paused, unsure if that was true, “—or something. How could he go out with a crazy person?”

“Well, I’ve known Victor for a long time,” said Dustin, “and what most people don’t realize is that he looks tough but he’s really a sweet guy. And he has a hard time being direct with women. Especially women who he feels need him. And the Black Widow knows just how to make him feel needed.”

What a stupid way to manipulate someone
, I thought. All of a sudden, I felt loads better about myself. I had felt so small and so ordinary standing next to that tall bombshell of a woman, but at least I never acted weak to get a guy to like me.

“Good grief, what a bunch of crap,” I muttered, sipping my beer again.

“I know!” said Dustin, laughing. But his laughter died on his lips, and it ended with a sigh. “Well, if I don’t go over there and grab our whiskeys, those two are gonna let the ice melt. And I need my liquid courage before the show. See ya.”

Dustin left us and sauntered to the bar. We watched as Mimi gave a little cry of delight and hugged Dustin to her ample bosom. When she released him, Dustin scratched his head sheepishly, reached for the three remaining whiskeys on the bar, and hightailed it back to his band mates.

This was too much. I closed my eyes and tried to feel in control again. I took another long swig of beer, and when I came back up for air, I saw Victor glancing at me. He had a troubled expression. But I just sighed and turned to Maggie and Archie. This Friday night that had started so well was going to be a long night after all.