Someone to Watch Over Me (3 page)

Once dressed, I misted myself
with the scent of peaches and dabbed some color on my lips. I
stared in the mirror, blotting them together, smoothing the thick
gloss into an even coat.

I wouldn’t say I was a
knockout, though Em would argue that to the point of death. I mean,
I was
n’t ugly
. I had great hair, thick
and strawberry blond
e
with just the right
amount of curl. My eyes were large and blue. In the right light
they looked green. My lips were full, really full. On
occasion
,
I caught whispers of
collagen
because of them
, but
they were God given.

Ok, I wasn’t
half bad. I didn’t think that made me conceited. I worked hard to
get myself back into shape after Levy’s birth.
I spent my lunch hour every day at the gym. I watched what
I ate, with the exception of my love for ice cream. I’m not saying
I was perfect. Like everyone else, I had my flaws. Things still
jiggled. I had a few small stretch marks on my breasts and more
along my lower stomach. Even my twenty-one year old physique wasn’t
immune to the ravages of pregnancy. So why shouldn’t I be proud of
my accomplishments?

Lord, if I
had half the confidence three years ago that I possessed
now,
I would’ve ended things with Grant
earlier
. I had blamed myself in the beginning. Hell,
I blamed myself up until the end. But I knew better now. I deserved
better. Not saying Tate Watkins was better, but if he or anyone
else wanted to show me one night of hot sex, I had the right to be
happy
, didn’t
I?
I’d
earned it.

Dismissing
the thought, I pulled the pins from my
hair and stuffed an elastic in my pocket for later. The Loft tended
to run hot on the weekends. On busier nights the dance floor became
null and void, the headcount rising into the hundreds as they
crowded before the band. All those swaying bodies could produce a
lot of heat. At the end of August, the nights were still warm and
today was a steamy ninety degrees. Already, I could feel a light
sheen across my face.

Grabbing my keys, I took one
fleeting glance around the apartment. Levy wasn’t with me, so I
wouldn’t need the diaper bag or the other various necessities, but
it was habit.

Satisfied, I dragged the door
closed
,
trotted down the stairs to my
car
, and made
my way blindly across the
driveway. Pushing the ignition, I flipped on the air and rolled
down my windows. A jet of steamy air blasted from the vents. It
smelled of pine trees and leather seats. I threw the car in reverse
and yelped when a set of legs appeared suddenly on the backup
monitor.

“Sorry,” said Mr. Craig,
strolling around to my driver’s side. He ben
t
low, peering in my window. Pulling off his John
Deere hat, he pushed his curly brown hair from his face. “Didn’t
mean to frighten you.”

He
had
frighten
ed
me. It was
so dark that I could barely make out the racing stripes on the hood
of my car. Christ, if that was Grant, he could’ve snuck up on me
and I wouldn’t even have seen him coming. A million scenarios
played out in my head, leaving my
palms
sweating
.

“I didn’t see you.”

“I know, which is why I came
out.
I like
to keep an eye
on
my girls
, make
sure
you’re all right out here by yourselves.”

“Thanks, Mr. Craig.” Em had
told me he checked on us, but I’d never seen him out here before.
Odd.

“
Call
me
Garrison, Cooper, you make me feel old when you call me
that. And it’s no problem. You remember where I keep that old
thirty
-
eight, right?”

I nodded. “In the birdhouse
hanging from the white pine.”

“Good girl. Remember, if you
get scared, don’t be afraid to use it. Either that or get yourself
a good man. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about you coming home so
late at night.”

I often wondered about Mr.
Craig and Em. They were close in age. Somehow that made them seem
almost perfect for one another. I wondered if he named his gun,
too.

Mr. Craig tousled my hair and
smiled. Crinkles fanned at the corners of his chocolate brown eyes.
“Good girl. Now drive careful. Rutting season
’
s coming. I’ve
already
seen two bucks hit on Big Road.”

“I will.”

Backing slowly away, I smiled
as my high-beams flashed across the house, catching Mr. Craig’s
feet ascending the stairs to the apartments. I knew it! I knew it!
I knew it! He and Em were having a hot affair. Wait till I saw Em
tomorrow. I knew she was holding out on me.

Grinning like a loon, I threw
the car into drive and headed to work.

Chapter
2

H
ot
didn’t properly describe the temperatures in The Loft. The place
was packed. Fans from all over came to see
the
local band, whose first single had just aired on
the radio two weeks earlier. The dance floor was one massive horde
of writhing bodies, each throwing off a good
hundred-plus degrees
. So I would say sweltering
would aptly cover the air quality.

P
assing
through the kitchen door, I walked into a
wall of heat that only exacerbated my mood. While I was making good
tips off the crowd, I was also groped and propositioned more times
than I could count. The bouncers were supposed to look out for us
when the patrons became grabby, but with the place packed
so tightly
, whatever went on below your
waist became difficult to see. I’d have to shower twice to wash
away the grime of everyone’s hands.

“Intermission in fifteen”
Marshall said, holding the door for me. Marshall was a good guy. He
looked out for me while I was on stage. After a few
beers
,
some of the male patrons took to
joining me on stage while I was performing. He’d promptly throw
them back off.

He’d asked me out several
times, though I never took him seriously. I think he did it just to
make me smile. The man was enormous, with pythons for arms and
washboard abs. He was seriously triangular, with a massive
chest
, broad
shoulders and a trim waist.
Put some combat boots on the guy and you had one bad mother fucker.
If I was smart I’d marry the guy just for peace of mind.
Unfortunately, I never claimed I was smart.
M
y choice in men proved that.

“Got it.”

“You have
fresh
customers at table six,” Mia said, pushing
through the door behind me. She dropped her tray to the counter and
began loading platters for her next run. “Take their order. I’ll
cover for you
while you’re on stage.”

“Thanks, Mia.”

I followed her out, hauling my
own tray
o
n each arm. I dropped the first
off at eight. After politely asking if they needed anything else,
to which they respectfully declined, I made my way to table five.
“I’ll be right with you,” I told my customers at six as I passed.
My eyes were on the couple Jenna was ushering to table seven. I
backed up, holding my tray high in the air as they squeezed past,
crushing the back of my thighs along the edge of six’s table.

“Sorry Coop,” Jenna mouthed in
passing. I shrugged and rolled my eyes then made my way to table
five with their meals. These were
strictly
male
s
. The grabby
kind. Hence the apology and the
preceding
eye roll. Jenna was the hostess. She chose the seating
arrangements.

“Suicide wings with blue
cheese,” I called off, placing the platters before each respective
party. “Cheese steak with American, chicken cheese steak with ranch
dressing, bacon cheeseburger with extra bacon, hold the pickles,
loaded fries, onion rings with extra zesty sauce, aaannnndd chicken
quesadillas with black bean salsa.” Keeping my mind on the tips, I
pasted on a genial smile. “Is there anything else I can get you
this evening?”

“How ‘bout some company,
sweetheart,” said Michael. Or maybe it was Mitch. I wasn’t really
paying attention when they introduced themselves. I was too busy
fending
off their grabby paws. Before I
could react, he looped his arm round my waist and pulled me onto
his lap.

I promptly pried myself away
and used my tray as a shield. “Sorry gentlemen, I’m not on the
menu.”

Michael, Mitch
,
whatever
,
pouted, his
eyes flickering with mischief, undeterred. “My loss,” he winked.
“If you change your mind…”

Forcing a smile, I turned to
table six, opting to disregard the offer. And my smile immediately
faltered. God, please tell me this isn’t happening. Tate Watkins
glared up at me, equally discomposed. Perhaps, just
perhaps
,
he wasn’t very happy to see me
either.

Oh well. Pulling
up
my big girl panties, I shored
up
my smile, tucked my tray under my arm, and pulled
my order pad and pen from my pocket. “Hi guys, I’ll be your
waitress tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks or an
appetizer?”

I thought I heard him mutter
something like, “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” or something
close to that, but I ignored it, refusing to let him get under my
skin.

“Can I tell you what the
specials are tonight?”

“You work here?” he said. It
was a rhetorical question. “Here?” He looked at my uniform like it
had personally insulted him.

“Look, it’s a busy
night
,
” I said, dropping all pretenses.
“Do you want to order or not? I have other tables I need to wait
on
.”

“What happened to the little
office number from yesterday?”

“It doesn’t pay the bills.”

Tate’s eyes drew behind me,
narrowed. A second later, a
beefy
arm
snaked around my waist. I could kiss Marshall just about now.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said politely. “But I need to borrow her
for a few minutes. Another waitress will be right with you.” With
that, he whisked me off, clearing a path across the dance floor, to
the door that would take me back stage.

“You,” I shouted over the
crowd, “are a lifesaver.”

“Is that guy bothering
you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Jesus.
Do you know who that is?”

“
Front man
for
Hautboy.”

“You
knew
that?”

“They came to check out the
band. Tate Watkins is thinking about backing them. He has his own
recording company. Small. But you get more personalized service
with small labels.”

“I can’t go on tonight.”

“Why, because Hautboy is in the
audience? Coop, you’ve been
performing
for
ever
.
Now
you’re going to get
cold feet?”

“They sing music, Marshall.
Real
music. Not this twit shit that Billy makes me sing. I
can’t make a fool of myself like that.”

“The men love that twit shit.
It makes them go crazy.”

“It makes them grabby. I get
groped the rest of the night.”

“You never cared before.”

“I have pride, damn it!” I put
my foot down. Stomped, actually. I’d never thrown a
tantrum
like that before.
If I
did, I was too young to recall.
“I will not be groped in
front of Tate Watkins!”

“Did you just stomp your
feet?”

“Yes, I think I did.”

“God that’s sexy. When’re you
going to go out with me, Coop?”

“Never.”

“You might recant that.”
Reaching into his back pocket, he pull
ed
out a jewel case and waved it in the air, grinning smugly. I
snatched at it, but he was quick to pull it away.

If that was
what I thought it was, Marshall was right. I might marry him after
all. He had a friend who had a friend who was in the music
business. He gave him a few sheets of music
that I wrote for recording. Honestly, it had been so long,
I’d nearly forgotten.

“What is that?”

“
Real
music.”

“WHAT. TRACKS?”

“Yours of—”

I launched myself at him,
showering him with kisses. “I love you Marshall! I love you! I love
you! I love you! I’m going to have your babies! Big mammoth babies
just like you!”

“The hell with intermission,”
said Marshall, turning for the dressing room. “Let’s start making
babies right now.”

Hastily, I climbed off him,
taking the jewel case with me. I hugged it to my chest, cradling it
like a child.

Cocking his
head, Marshall planted his hands on his hips.
“
Damn. I never would’ve taken you for a gold
digger.
”

I smiled, the corners of my
mouth stretching ear to ear. “Thank you, Marshall.”

“Go woman. Go sing your songs
while I pick up the pieces of my
broken
heart.”

Stealing a second in front of
the mirror, I pulled the elastic free and let my hair fall over my
shoulders
, gave
it a quick
tousle
, t
hen ran for the stage.
Before I could forget,
Marshall stole the
CD from my hand and headed for the sound system.

“You’re a hot mess, Coop. What
would you do without me?”

“Wither, Marshall.” Smiling, I
ducked through the curtain.

I thought I might vomit. I’d
never had anxiety over taking the stage. I’d performed dozens of
times before. But I knew it had nothing to do with the stage. It
had everything to do with the fact that Tate Watkins was watching.
Unease settled in my stomach like a lead weight, threatening to
purge before a full audience. Then someone shouted my name.