Masked Desires (3 page)

Almost before I knew it, Eddie had handed me an apron with pockets for the notepad and pen I’d use for writing down orders, and the cash I’d be taking in payment. I fastened it around my waist, and went to serve my first customer.

That first night passed in a blur, as I got to grips with the process of taking orders for food and drink, delivering them to Eddie or Rudy as required, and then bringing everything back to the customers. Eddie’s attracted a mixed crowd – students, sports fans, off-duty firefighters from the firehouse over on West 10th Street – and though it wasn’t as busy as it would get on Friday and Saturday nights, the atmosphere was convivial and pleasantly noisy. The jukebox had been loaded up with rock classics, mostly from the 70s and 80s, and a TV over the bar showed the local news channel with the sound turned way down. Eddie commanded the area behind the bar, pouring beer from the dozen or so taps; mostly microbrews, many of them from the renowned Brooklyn Brewery, just over the other side of the Hudson. No fancy mixed drinks or flinging cocktail shakers in the air with a flourish for him.

By the end of the night my feet ached, even in spite of my comfortable shoes, and I had to stifle a yawn or two as we closed up the bar. But I couldn’t deny I’d had fun; striking up a rapport with the customers had been much easier than trying to persuade a reluctant client to buy more columns of ad space, and I’d had more than a few admiring glances as I’d passed between tables with my tray. If men wanted to flirt, I was happy to flirt back; most of the time, it meant an extra dollar or two to add to the tip jar Eddie kept in the kitchen, the contents of which, he’d told me, were divided up between the wait staff and Rudy at the end of the week. And they could chat to me all they wanted, passing me their numbers scribbled on napkins when they handed me their money; it wasn’t like I was going to take any of them up on their offers.

It could just have been my imagination, but a couple of times I swore I could see Eddie looking my way too, his expression giving the impression he liked what he saw. Then he’d quickly return to washing beer glasses, or whatever he’d been doing before. The thought of the craggily handsome bar owner paying me a little attention put a spring in my step, and broadened my smile, but I told myself not to make too much of it. Maybe he was just pleased I hadn’t messed up any customer orders, or slipped and sent a plate of chicken wings smothered in Rudy’s own-recipe hot sauce crashing to the ground.

‘Goodnight, Summer,’ Eddie said, as he let me out of the door. ‘You did really well for your first night, you know.’ His tone suggested he didn’t regret taking me on, which I counted as an achievement.

‘Thanks, it’s been fun,’ I replied, meaning it despite the blister forming on my left heel. Whatever I was about to add was cut off by the blare of a siren as a police car raced down the street.

‘Are you going to be OK to get home?’ Eddie seemed suddenly reminded that, despite the sustained attempts at cracking down on street crime, this city could still be a dangerous place, particularly late at night.

‘Honestly, Eddie, I’ll be fine. Like I said, I only live round the corner.’

‘You’re sure? I could walk you there, if you’d like.’

Such a tempting offer. On the doorstep, I could invite him in for coffee, and see what that might lead to. I’d dreamt of sharing a kiss with him; maybe tonight it would happen, then I’d lead him into the bedroom and …

I pulled myself up sharply. What was I thinking? I barely knew the guy. My usual rule specified three dates before I ended up in bed with someone; it didn’t make me look too eager, and gave me time to ensure I really liked him enough to take things to the next stage. Tonight wasn’t the time to do anything more than thank Eddie for his concern and assure him I was fine to make my way home alone. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I said, and with that I was gone.

I looked back when I’d walked about a hundred yards, expecting to see nothing but a firmly locked door. Instead, Eddie still stood there. Giving him a wave that caused him to pop his head back inside, as though embarrassed I’d caught him watching me, I hurried on my way.

Chapter Three

After a week or so, it felt like I’d never done anything but work at Eddie’s. My time on the
Reporter
seemed like another life, grey and dull, and even though I’d taken a substantial hit in terms of salary, the camaraderie with my new colleagues helped to compensate. Plenty of things were more important than money, after all.

As I lingered over a second mug of strong coffee one morning, my cell phone rang. When I picked it up, I heard Eddie’s voice. ‘Hey, Summer, I need you to come in and work the lunch shift, if that’s OK.’

‘Sure,’ I replied, glancing at my watch to make sure I had enough time to shower and change before the bar opened at 11. ‘Is there some problem with Janeane?’

‘Yeah, she’s had to take Molly to the dentist’s office. The kid’s been up half the night with a raging toothache, apparently. I hate having to ask you to do this, but I rang Penny and she’s in classes all morning.’

‘Don’t worry about it, honestly, Eddie. I’m happy to help out.’

The bar had a different vibe in the hour after opening. The scent of stale beer had been cleaned away, and the jukebox, programmed to choose random songs if no one was around to pay for their own selection, played Bruce Springsteen and the Eagles at a low volume.

Eddie, I couldn’t help but notice, had a copy of that day’s
Reporter
on the bar, and was reading the latest on some new scandal engulfing the Mayor’s office. ‘Can you believe how corrupt people can be?’ he commented to no one in particular. ‘Show ’em a trough and next thing you know they’ve got their noses in it. What do you think, hey, Summer?’

‘I think I could have gone a little longer without seeing that rag again.’ I gestured to the paper. When he raised a quizzical eyebrow, I added, ‘The day I came in here looking for a job, I’d just got laid off from the
Reporter
’s advertising department.’

The explanation made me realise how little Eddie and I knew about each other. We’d chatted as we worked, but mostly making small talk about the weather or the foibles of some customer or other, nothing of any consequence. With the bar so quiet, I took the opportunity to rectify that.

‘So what about you? How long have you owned this place?’

Eddie folded the paper shut, and set it down on the counter top. ‘A little over four years now. Before that, I was in construction. Did a lot of work around the Village, and a few of the guys used to drink here all the time. It was called the Barrow Tavern in those days, and it was a proper dive. Just real neglected, you know? And it’s in such a prime location, I always thought with just a little investment, it could be a great little neighbourhood bar.’ He broke off as a man walked up to the counter. ‘Hey, Tyler, what can I get you?’

As the lanky, dark-haired guy Eddie had addressed as Tyler settled himself on a bar stool, I fought to suppress a grin. His black tank top left his arms bare, and the blackwork tattoo on his right arm was instantly familiar to me. The last time I’d seen it had been from my kitchen window as he clung on tight to his blonde lover, fucking her on the fire escape. Now here he was, thumbs pressing rapidly at the keypad of his cell phone while he waited for Eddie to pour his beer.

‘You know him?’ I asked, once he’d been served and Eddie turned his attention back to me.

‘Oh, I know any number of people to say hi to,’ Eddie replied. ‘But yeah, Tyler’s in here all the time. Though I’m surprised to see him on his own. He usually has some girl or other hanging off his arm. Very popular with the ladies, is Tyler.’

If what I’d been a witness to the other day was a typical performance, I had a good idea why. ‘So,’ I said, switching back to our original topic of conversation, ‘you were telling me how you came to buy the bar?’

‘Oh yeah. Well, it was always a dream of mine to own a bar, but I never saw it happening. I’d managed to put some savings aside, but nothing like as much as I’d need. Then I found out that my old man had put quite a large sum of money in trust for me, and once I turned 30 I could get my hands on it. Talk about fate, but a month after my 30th birthday, the owners put this place up for sale and – well, you can guess the rest.’

So if his father had put money in trust, did that mean the man was dead, or …? Rudy yelling, ‘Order up!’ from the kitchen put a halt to me asking any more questions, as I went to collect the burger and fries that had been ordered by the man in the booth closest to the door.

A party of tourists wandered in, commandeering my attention and embarking on a rambling, complicated order of food and drinks. As they were deciding whether they wanted their burgers with blue cheese and mushrooms or bacon and avocado, I looked over toward the bar and caught Eddie’s eye. He winked, the action so unutterably sexy it sent a thrill of excitement skittering through me.

‘Oh waitress, could I make that a large glass of white zinfandel?’ the woman who’d been taking longest to make up her mind asked in a slow, southern drawl.

‘Sure thing,’ I said, scribbling her request on my pad. ‘I’ll be right back with the drinks.’

There was so much more I wanted to ask Eddie, but he appeared to be engrossed in conversation with Tyler, pointing to the same story in the
Reporter
he’d been discussing with me. There’d be time, I told myself, and went to take the food order through to Rudy.

A couple of nights later, another familiar face crossed the threshold of Eddie’s. Delia had sent a couple of texts promising she’d come down and visit me, but I was still a little surprised to see her walk into the bar one Thursday evening. It was stormy outside, and she paused for a second in the doorway to shake her umbrella free of raindrops. I’d half-expected her to bring some of the girls from the
Reporter
with her, but she’d come on her own. She found a spare seat at the bar, perching on it daintily as she waited to be served.

‘Hey, Summer, how’s it going?’ she asked as I walked past her carrying a tray of beers for a noisy bunch of Giants fans in the booth closest to the TV. They were regulars, rowdy but good-natured, and they tipped well, which had endeared them to me. Occasionally, they’d ask me how I thought the team would do, and I’d just shake my head and make a wild guess, knowing next to nothing about football.

‘Hi, Delia. Welcome to Eddie’s. Pretty filthy night outside, huh?’

‘Yeah, whatever happened to the heatwave they were promising on the news?’

Eddie set down a round paper mat with a fluted edge in front of Delia, and placed a glass of red wine on it. At the side of it, he put the complimentary dish of mixed nuts he offered to all customers with their drink. ‘Friend of yours, hey, Summer?’

‘Yes, this is Delia. We used to work on the
Reporter
together.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Delia. Any friend of Summer’s is a friend of mine.’ He seemed about to add something else, but noticed someone further down the bar indicating that he wanted another beer, and went to oblige.

Delia sipped her wine. ‘So, it looks like you’re doing OK.’

‘Yeah, I’m enjoying it so much,’ I assured her, the enthusiasm in my tone obvious even to my own ears. ‘Eddie’s a great boss to work for, and we get a really nice crowd in here.’

‘And to think we always reckoned this place was full of sports nuts and losers.’ Delia grinned. ‘So what’s all that about?’ She gestured to one of the beer taps at the back of the bar, which was crowned by a photograph of a silver-haired, middle-aged man in a firefighter’s uniform.

‘What, Sergeant O’Malley’s Ale?’ I’d asked the same question on my first night at work, and Eddie had filled me in on the story. ‘He used to drink in here when he was off shift, along with the rest of his crew, and that was his favourite tipple. He was killed rescuing a girl from a burning building on East 14th Street a couple of years back, and that’s when Eddie decided to rename the beer in his honour.’

Delia raised her wine glass in the direction of the man’s photograph, paying her own silent tribute to him. Like all New Yorkers, she appreciated the sacrifices the emergency services made in the course of keeping the city safe. Then she took a sip of her drink, and her eyes brightened. ‘So what you’re saying is the bar gets full of firefighters? Maybe I should start drinking here on a regular basis.’

‘Whatever happened to your dream of hooking a rich stockbroker?’ I asked, casting an eye round the bar room to make sure no one was in imminent need of serving.

‘Oh, maybe what I really need is a guy who’s more down to earth, got some dirt under his fingernails, you know?’ She flashed me a secretive smile. ‘Just like you’ve got here.’

‘Delia, what are you talking about?’ A noisy party of four in the back booth had stood up to leave, throwing a pile of dollar bills down on the table, and I had to go collect the money and clean away the empty glasses.

‘Well, you can’t deny your boss is hot, with that fine ass and that whole “just got out of bed” thing going on. You’ve landed on your feet here, Summer, really you have, and I’m just wondering what you’re going to do about it?’

‘Oh, you’re crazy,’ I told her, leaving her to her wine and nibbles while I attended to the recently vacated booth.

That didn’t stop me thinking about her words even after she’d finished her drink and bid me goodnight – though not before filling me in on all the gossip from the
Reporter
, including the rumour that they were looking to make further job cuts, not only in the advertising department, but on the editorial floor too. She was pretty sure her own position was safe, but she admitted she’d started looking at online job listings, just in case.

Delia was smart, and good at what she did; I knew if the worst did happen, she’d find a similar position without too much difficulty. Still, it didn’t stop me worrying about her a little.

The bar had closed for the night, and I had just pulled on a hooded top, ready to leave for my apartment and bed, when a tall, sharp-featured woman pushed through the door, carrying a furled umbrella.

‘I’m sorry, we’re closed,’ I told her, but she ignored me and strode up to the counter.

She appeared to be looking round for something. Failing to find it, she finally acknowledged me. ‘Where’s Eddie?’

‘Oh, he’s in the back kitchen, I think. I’ll go get him.’

‘Don’t bother,’ she said, and walked round the side of the counter, into an area that was strictly off-limits to customers.

‘Hey, you’re not supposed to –’ I began, wondering how to get her out of there, but at that moment Eddie emerged from the kitchen, his face breaking into a weary grin at the sight of the trespasser.

‘Hey, sis, what brings you here?’ Turning to me, he said, ‘Summer, this is my sister, Heather.’

‘Stepsister,’ she corrected him. That explained why I couldn’t see any strong physical similarities between them, and why Heather was as fair as her brother was dark. Cold and brusque where he was open and charming.

‘Anyway, what brings you here at this time of night?’ Eddie asked. I thought about leaving, but something in his tone compelled me to stay. There seemed to be a little frost around the edges of this sibling relationship, and I wondered whether he felt as though he needed a spot of back-up.

‘The Masquerade Ball at the Mallory Hotel. You haven’t forgotten, have you?’

From the blank look on Eddie’s face, it was obvious he had.

‘Oh Eddie. I must have reminded you three or four times. It’s this Saturday night, and you know I’m counting on you to be there.’ Sensing Eddie was about to make some kind of objection, Heather continued, ‘And don’t tell me you have to work, because I know damn well you can get someone to cover for you if you need to.’ She drew a slim book of tickets out of an oversized caramel leather purse I’d once admired when I’d seen it on the
Reporter
’s fashion spread, but whose price tag was way out of my range. ‘Come on, you more than anyone ought to be helping out a charity that’s raising money for research into heart disease, right?’

Eddie shrugged. ‘OK, so how much is this going to set me back?’

‘Well, the tickets are $500 each, and you’ll be bringing your girlfriend, I take it?’

Girlfriend? I’d been working here for weeks, and this was the first I’d heard about Eddie having a girlfriend. My stomach did a sick little flip of disappointment, even as I wondered why the lucky lady had never so much as popped her head round the door in all that time.

‘You take it correctly, sis.’ Almost before I was aware of it, Eddie had wrapped an arm round my waist, pulling me to him. ‘You’d love to come to this ball, wouldn’t you, Summer?’

For a moment, both he and Heather stared at me intently, waiting for my answer. Not at all sure what was happening here, I stammered, ‘Of course.’

‘
She’s
your girlfriend?’ Heather sounded incredulous, eyeing me up and down. ‘You’ve been telling me all about this fabulous girl of yours for so long now, I have to say I’d expected someone a little more – glamorous.’

‘Says the woman who married her dry old stick of a boss,’ Eddie retorted. ‘How is Phillip, by the way?’

‘He’s fine. Waiting in the car outside. I have to drop him at JFK to catch the early flight to London, so we don’t have much time.’

Eddie took the hint, reaching in the breast pocket of his jacket and pulling out his cheque book. ‘Who do I make it out to?’

‘The Masquerade Ball,’ Heather told him, watching as he filled in the cheque. Briefly, her glance settled on me once more. ‘So, how did you two meet, exactly?’

I tried to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was still busy writing. After his comment about Heather’s husband, I had the feeling she wouldn’t react too well if he admitted he was dating one of his staff, and I felt an almost insane urge to protect him from what I suspected was her whiplash tongue. Fortunately, the hooded top covered my T-shirt, which would have given my true status away at once.

The lie popped into my head from nowhere. ‘Oh, I came in here one night with some friends to play pool and shoot the breeze. Eddie’s eyes met mine over the bar counter and – well, we’ve been together ever since.’ It all sounded so convincing, I almost believed it myself.