Songbird (2 page)

“Just pick up the pace, Bertha.”

I didn’t respond and went back to the bar for
Nicholas’s glass of water.

“I didn’t think that man could get any
ruder,” Derek hissed but his eyes were full of curious humor. “Mr.
Walker hasn’t taken his eyes from you since he sat down.”

“Waiting for his water probably.” I shrugged
and rolled my shoulders because, yes, I could feel his eyes. “I
have to admit, if Crispin tried to grab my ass, he’d have broken
fingers. So maybe it’s better this way.”

I should have walked along the far side of
the room with the glass of water instead of walking by Crispin’s
table. Sure, the walk would have been a little longer, and it
wouldn’t have given me the opportunity to check all my guests but
certainly inviting additional verbal attack wasn’t a good idea.

As I passed the table, my shoulders tensed in
anticipation for the onslaught. A foot shot out, my boot caught on
the leg and I pitched forward. I was moving too fast to catch
myself and the glass of water crashed to the floor as I threw my
hands out to catch my falling body. My glasses slipped off my nose
and went skidding. I was too close to an empty table and the corner
of a chair caught me in the temple as I went down. Right into cold
water and broken glass.

My head throbbed, my knee burned where it
scraped and my hand felt broken from the jar of the impact. I laid
there a minute hoping the weird vertigo—since I was laying down it
was weird—would pass. The shadow that fell over me forced the knee
jerk reaction to curl up and protect my organs. I’d been kicked
before and bruised kidneys weren’t pleasant.

“That was fucking uncalled for,” the voice
vibrated with barely restrained fury.

“It’s only a server.” Crispin was still
laughing. “Don’t waste your time on it.”

It. I was only an “it” to him. Somehow, that
explained the way he treated me. I was nothing. Well, a man’s worth
was decided by how he treated those that could do nothing for him.
I wasn’t the worthless one here.

“You are so fucking lucky I can’t afford to
be arrested again this month or I’d be wipe the floor with your
ugly face,” Nicholas growled.

I uncurled to glance at him in surprise, but
without my glasses I couldn’t seem much of anything. A quick glance
around for my glasses didn’t reveal them close by. I could barely
see without them but when I slowly pushed up Nicholas’s black on
black wasn’t hard to discern which meant the man standing up to him
had to be Crispin. There was glass in my hand and I whimpered a
little at the pressure pushing off the floor created.

“You can’t,” Barbara Jean’s sharp twang
escaped the blurred figure moving to Nicholas’s side, “but I
certainly can.” She tossed the remainder of her drink in his
face.

Crispin’s hand moved fast and I was stunned
into motionlessness to think the man would hit a woman. Since I
could barely see anything, I couldn’t tell what Nicholas’s reaction
to the motion was but Barbara Jean caught the hand and twisted it
against the rules of bone structure. Crispin howled and was forced
to his knees when Barbara Jean didn’t let go.

“Your mama should have taught you better.”
Barbara Jean’s free hand boxed his ear or that’s what it looked
like to fuzzy eyes.

Shit. This was escalating quickly. I forced
my legs under me and swayed to my feet. “Enough.” I moved between
the triad before anything else could happen. “That’s enough. It was
an accident. Accidents happen.”

“Like fucking hell it was.” Nicholas crossed
his arms and cocked a hip.

“What’s going on here?” My boss, Maggie Mae
pushed into the triangle. Thank God. “Dear, Lord, Bianca you’re
bleeding.”

“An accident,” I began.

“That fucker,” Nicholas’s hand lifted towards
Crispin, “tripped her intentionally. I saw the whole fucking thing.
I don’t perform while he’s in the building. He doesn’t fucking
deserve to be here.”

Nicholas turned to me and studied me
carefully. “You need to be looked at.” The barely controlled anger
was gone as if a switch had flipped and only concern leaked through
his voice now.

“It’s just a scratch,” I didn’t need to feel
the blood trickling down the side of my head to know I bled.

“Mr. Walker,” Maggie Mae interrupted, “I
understand that the situation is unfortunate, however…”

He turned towards Maggie Mae and I felt the
air vibrate. The anger was back. “No. It’s not unfortunate.” He was
childish enough to put air quotes around the word. “It’s uncalled
for. Unacceptable and rude beyond the definition. He’s an asshole
and has treated her like his shit doesn’t stink. Well I have
news.”

“Enough,” I repeated and used my uncut hand
to touch Nicholas’s arm. His muscles were tight and rigid, and
looking down his hands were balled into white knuckled fists.
Someone had to step in before Nicholas forgot he couldn’t get
arrested again. “Let me get you another water. Did you decide you
wanted something to eat?”

When his face shifted to mine his brow
lifted. “You’re really going to serve me while you’re bleeding? Do
you think I’m a monster too? Where’s the first aid kit?”

“At the bar.” Maggie Mae worried her lip.

Nicholas tucked my good hand into his elbow
and guided me over to the bar. Derek already had the first aid kit
and a new glass of water sitting on the polished wood.

I could hear the raised voices and turned to
see people—probably Maggie Mae, Crispin, and by the twang, Barbara
Jean—in an intense argument. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to
be pushed gently onto a stool. I should have never accepted the
job. God, this night was terrible.

I let Nicholas clean my hand and wrap it. I
kept my eyes closed as he washed the knot on my head. Surprisingly,
his hands were gentle and the pain wasn’t a bad as it could have
been. I tucked the memory away to be savored later. I was rarely
the one being taken care of.

“You all right?” he asked quietly.

I gestured with my good hand to the tables.
“My glasses are out there somewhere.”

“They’re right here.” Barbara Jean approached
and she sounded right pissed too. “I scooped them up before they
could get trampled.”

“Thank you, Ms. Barbara Jean.” With the
glasses on my nose I could see concern on Barbara Jean’s face and
while his face wasn’t angry Nicholas’s eyes were.

“I’m sorry for inconveniencing you tonight,”
I began and the fury bubbling in his eyes exploded onto his
face.

“You have nothing to fucking apologize for. I
mean it. I’m not playing as long as that asshat is in the
building.” He stalked away.

“You sure you’re okay, sweetie?” Barbara Jean
studied my face and took my bandaged hand in hers. “You look a
little pale yet.”

“I’ll probably be pale for days after this.”
I gave her a smile that faltered when Maggie Mae came over.

“The lineup is starting and Nicholas is third
in line. What am I going to do? Billy is going to be pissed, and
Vincent is already demanding that I fix this. I don’t know how to
fix this. I didn’t know the man would explode at the drop of a
hat.” She ran a hand through her hair and tugged when the fingers
reached the ends.

The stage director would get his panties in a
twist about Nicholas not performing. He would have to get over it.
Or… I sighed and rubbed at my not bruised temple.

“Are you okay, honey?” Maggie Mae’s hands
dropped on to my shoulders and she studied my eyes. “I think you
should go sit in the office. We’ll wait and see how you feel and if
you feel the need we’ll file the worker’s compensation papers. That
bump looks a little nasty.”

Leave it to her to think of the practical
after the fact. She probably only remembered that Bluejay was
responsible for my on the job injuries. Such was the lack of
importance of bottom of the rung employees.

“I think I can fix it.” I pushed slowly off
the stool. Why not try? I couldn’t make this worse. My brother had
a temper like Nicholas Walker. If I could handle my brother than I
sure as shit could handle the moody musician.

I may not read the gossip rags, but everyone
in town knew Nicholas Walker had the sweet tooth of a two year old.
Setting up to sweet talk him into doing what was needed for the
business, I went into the kitchen and put what I needed in a to-go
container. A bottle of water went into my apron along with
silverware.

“What are you doing?” Maggie Mae asked when I
came back to the bar to grab napkins.

“Getting Nicholas Walker on stage,” I
answered.

She chewed her lip. This habit grated on my
last nerve. She wasn’t the one about to face the lion. “Do you
really think you can?”

“Only one way to find out.” I couldn’t leave
well enough alone. Angry men were dangerous. I knew it from
personal experience to be a fact. However, Nicholas had also been
unfathomably kind. That kindness deserved some in return even if my
kindness had an ulterior motive.

With to-go container in hand, I left the
dining area and entered the hall connecting the dining room,
concert hall and gift shop. Climbing the stairs I sent any
celestial being a quick prayer for luck. Artists had assigned VIP
boxes on the balcony above regular setting to watch the show from
when they were scheduled to perform. I only prayed Nicholas was in
his instead of packing up and heading out.

Lady Luck often ignored my pleas, even with a
prayer, so I was thrilled when I stepped into the partially dark
box and saw Nicholas sitting in the corner near the dimmed lamp
with a notebook. There were three other guys sitting in the box,
but their backs were to Nicholas and they were watching the
stage.

Crispin’s comedy routine blasted through the
auditorium and I found the joke he was telling on the crude and
uneducated side. Not really surprising considering his
behavior.

Nicholas ignored the stage and wrote quickly,
almost frantic, in the notebook held close to his face. His eyes
were completely focused on the paper so he didn’t notice my silent
entrance. A hand traveled through his hair once and he twisted the
chain of his necklace when he paused to read over what he wrote.
Nervous ticks? What did the man have to be nervous about?

I walked over pulling out the bottle of water
and sat down next to Nicholas. I waited for him to look up before
holding out the bottle.

“I still owe you a water.”

His lips quirked and he took the bottle. I
watched him break the seal and drink half the bottle in a few
gulps. His eyes landed on the to-go box in my lap when he lowered
the bottle.

“What’s that?”

“This?” I looked down at the box and prayed
this worked. My brother was usually susceptible to sweet talk but
no two men had the same temperament. “Nobody usually stands up for
me—”

“Well they should.” He cut me off and the
edges of his temper could be felt in the snapped words.

“I grew up in the rough part of Annapolis.
You think I’d be used to assholes, but after living here the last
couple of years I forget they exist, I guess.”

“I’m an asshole,” Nicholas spoke quietly. “I
would have decked the fucker if Ezra wouldn’t have gone wild.”

“Your heart was in the right place,” I
murmured, and wondered who Ezra was for half a heartbeat but my
focus had to be on getting him to perform. I held out the to-go
box. “This is a proper thank you for standing up for me.”

I watched curiosity cross his face as he took
the box and then pure greed when he flipped the lid open. I held
out the silverware, without a word he took them.

The triple chocolate fudge mousse cake was
diabetes incarnate. I had felt like I was going into diabetic shock
just plating it up and drizzling the chocolate sauce over it. The
dollop of whip cream was probably the least sugary part of the
whole thing.

When he put the first bite into his mouth his
eyes rolled half shut and a little purr sounded from his throat. My
mouth went dry and my palms started to sweat. I had to remind
myself that he was walking sex and I should not be impressed with
his near orgasmic reaction to chocolate.

He took the second bite a lot slower and when
his tongue darted out to lick the chocolate sauce dripping down his
lower lip, I nearly lost my nerve and bolted. Imagining licking
chocolate off of every inch of him was not going to get me through
the rest of this conversation.

The rock band now on the stage caught my
attention and I stood, moving to the other side of Nicholas so I
could see the stage. The band below was rocking out hard and seemed
to be having a lot of fun considering this was a job for them. I
supposed if you loved what you did it wasn’t really work.

“What is it?” Nicholas looked out toward the
stage.

I shrugged and figured a little truth
wouldn’t hurt my cause. “I’ve never seen the live music performance
before. I work outside with the vendors usually. This is my first
time seeing the stage show. It’s pretty nice.”