“Thank you,” I said taking my clear drink. Clear was good, right? I just so happened to take that drink right as Ryan approached me, my lips burned first, then my tongue, and then my throat. I think my teeth even burned.
“You okay? Here, chase it with this.”
My reflection through the mirrored wall behind the bar revealed a beet red face and wide eyes. Holy shit that burned. Way worse than scotch, at least it had a bit of a sweet taste. This vodka stuff was toxic. I downed a half a glass of some kind of wine, Ryan’s wine. The alcohol taste was still there, but so much better.
“Holy shit. Thanks.”
Ryan laughed a toothy smile again, “I like you. Get her a glass of Royal Grady,” he called to Clayton who once again dropped what he was doing to kiss Ryan’s ass. Royal Grady was my new favorite drink. It had a hint of sweet, mixed with sour berry and alcohol. The fruit taste was limited, but there. I made up my mind at that moment I was a wine drinker and I was never drinking anything on the rocks again. Why it didn’t dawn on me that on the rocks meant straight up liquor, I’m not sure. I knew that. Anyone with a television knew that.
“Let’s get a table,” Ryan offered taking my elbow. I slid off the tall stool and played off a wobbly high heel pretty well. I don’t think anyone noticed the twist in my ankle. I should have stuck to being a tomboy. I hated heels.
“Why is this corner empty, but the rest of the place is full?”
“It’s off limits. We keep them open for important people.”
“Like who?” I asked, sliding around the booth. I didn’t tell Ryan, but this was Pea’s favorite table. The round seat went in some symmetrical shape with a divider in the middle. She ran from one side to the other, jumping over the divider.
“Like you,” he smiled. Holy crap, Ryan was hitting on me. Blake would shit purple.
“Well, I have eaten chicken fingers at this exact table a few times.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pea and I come in here a couple times a week for lunch. She likes this table because there’s a moat,” I explained going in a circle with my finger.
“Why do you call her Pea?”
“Because I hate the name London. Have you ever heard the story about the princess and the pea?”
“I’m sure I have somewhere along the line. Tell me about you, what are you doing working as a nanny? You’re so pretty.”
“I thought you said you’ve heard the story?” I questioned across the table.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. I don’t know, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”
“And what about the rest of your time? Where are you going from here?”
“I’m not sure yet. I have time.”
That’s about as interesting as the conversation got that night. Ryan caught a beautiful blonde that he evidently knew, out of the corner of his eye. He suddenly wasn’t interested in where I was going or where I had been. He was interested in where he was going, or who he was doing. That is until he walked me toward the exit. He held one finger up to the girl waiting on him and retrieved his jacket. Stopping at the corner of the bar, Ryan dropped is credit card on the bar.
“We’ll do this again sometime,” he smiled.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Ms. Carlie’s is taken care of,” Clayton smiled, sucking up to Ryan. Give me a break.
“By who?” I had to be the one to ask. If I’d just kept my big mouth shut. Ryan didn’t give a shit who paid for my drinks, all he cared about was getting out of there and in the blonde.
“Your tab.”
“I don’t have a tab. I pay for my own stuff here. Here. I’ll pay for my own drinks.”
“I’ve got the drinks. Just put them on my card,” Ryan ordered with an irritated tone.
“Yes, sir. I’ll take them off the tab.”
“What tab? Why do you keep saying tab? This is not some honkey-tonk tavern. We don’t keep tabs,” Ryan informed the brown-nosing bartender.
“Orders from Zazen himself,” Clayton cowardly said, scurrying off.
My eyebrows shot up at the same time his fell, “What’s he talking about?”
“Beats me,” I shrugged. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Here you are, sir. Thank you for spending your evening at Zazen,” Clayton said, dropping the card and getting back to work. He didn’t care about what he’d just done. He didn’t even know what he’d just done. He only cared about the busy clientele around the bar, waiting for his time.
“Do you know Zazen?”
“No, not personally. I mean, I know he owns a chain of places just like this.”
“Where you from?”
“Chicago.”
“Did Blake bring you here? From there?”
“Did Blake say he did?”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Neither does this. I’ve got to go. Thanks for the drink.” As soon as I was through the door I buried my face in my hands. This was awesome. Ryan was going to go tell Blake and Blake would think I was using him and Pea to get to Barry Holden, or Zazen, whatever the hell his name was. I would never call him Zazen. Changing your name doesn’t let you forget what a horrible person you are.
I worried the entire next day, waiting for Blake to come home again. I was going to be an alcoholic if I kept this up. And then I got the text message. That’s when I decided I needed anxiety medication. He didn’t have to introduce himself at the end of his message. I knew the unknown.
Would you have dinner with me tonight? Oh, this is Ryan.
I had to say yes. If I didn’t adhere to what he had to say, I really would need anxiety medicine. Not only was I having sex with Blake for Pea’s sake. I said yes, but let him know it was contingent on what time Blake got home.
Blake was home way early. I wasn’t expecting him until at least seven. It was barely five.
He brought Pea three gerbera daisies in three different colors. She couldn’t have been happier had it been a pony. That was the sweetest thing I’d seen him do yet. He even helped her with the very expensive vase. I tried to tell him to use a plastic cup, but he assured me he didn’t care about the vase. He had to lift her to smell them several times.
Blake set her to the floor and flipped through the mail, “This my present too?” Pea asked, holding up—OH GOD!
“No. Give that to me. That’s for big people.”
“What for?” She wanted to know. That was the first time I’d ever seen Blake’s face that red, my face didn’t feel red at all, it felt white.
“I’ll tell you never.”
“Pea, baby. Can you go color me a new picture for the refrigerator?” I asked, moving the pot of boiling water. Pea ran off and I turned to Blake.
“I—it was. Wow. This sucks,” he snorted. I crossed my arms and wallowed in his shame. “It was for you. I mean, I wanted to see if it would help.”
“You bought me a vibrator?”
“Yes. I want you to come.”
“You’ve turned this into a game. You’re only interested in putting your ego on a pedestal.”
“No. That’s not it. I want you to feel it,” Blake said taking a step toward me. I stepped back but stopped with the counter. I knew that look, “I want you to feel the tingling between your legs. I want your pussy to drench my cock.” My breath caught with every step closer. I even uncrossed my arms, needing to hold onto the countertop, “I want you to feel incredibly sensitive everywhere I touch you. I want it to sharpen as it isolates around your throbbing clit. I want to witness the look on your face when you climax with exquisite sensations you’ve never felt before. I want to feel the spasms around my cock and watch you catch the wave and ride it out.” My breathing went from normal to erratic with every raspy word. I think we almost kissed, I was in an absorbed trance.
“Hey, dat my Mikki,” Pea interrupted coming between us. I smiled down at her jealousy and picked her up. “You want a elephant?” She asked, clumsily, wrinkling the pages while trying
to turn them.
“Yes. An elephant would be perfect.”
Blake knew something was up over dinner. He didn’t act suspicious. Wouldn’t he have said something if Ryan told him about the night before? Shit. I had to tell him I was going out with his right hand man. He wasn’t going to like it. Maybe I could do it and not tell him. I’d just tell him I was going down to the bar.
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing. Why?” I asked at the same moment my phone vibrated in the kitchen. I read it, messaged back that eight o’clock would be fine and sat back down.
“Who was that?”
“Ryan.”
“Ryan who?”
“Um. I guess I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I was just going to spit it out, that was the best way, “No, but you should. He works for you.”
“You’re dating the help? What department is he in?”
“Maintenance,” fell from my lips without help. I wasn’t even thinking it. It wasn’t a complete lie. His name was Ryan and he probably maintained something. Blake shouldn’t have assumed things.
“You have a date with the boy who scrubs the floors?”
“Charie crubs a floor like this,” Pea said, trying to slide from her chair.
“No, you sit. You can show him after you eat your peas.”
“No, me belly too full.”
“It is not. You didn’t touch your noodles. Look, here’s a mushroom.”
“Where?” Pea questioned, searching the noodles for a mushroom she might have missed. I slid two from my plate to hers, distracting her from the Charlie scrubbing the halls until they shined.
Twenty Three
Mrs. Porter tried to get me to spend the night, but I didn’t. Cleveland was getting closer to New York and I didn’t want to be around people who we may look familiar to. We hugged at the last terminal and parted ways as friends. I was happy I met her and her granddaughter, they were special and I would never forget that bus trip with them. I never came right out and told Mrs. Porter that I was on the run, but that last hug told me she knew.
She squeezed me hard enough to produce a grunt, “Go to Colorado, they’re all high there. They’ll never find you.”
I laughed and thanked her for the advice. “Well, it’s just me and you again, kid,” I said, ruffling Pea’s hair.
“Rats.”
“Hey!” I said, scooping her up in a cradle, “You trying to tell me something? Uh?” I teased, nudging under her neck in a tickle.
“Let’s get ice cream.”
I looked around and decided we weren’t going to do that there, but we did have a four hour layover. I was sure we could find ice cream.
The closer we got to New York the more my insides felt like mush. I needed a plan, and more than that. I needed help; someone I could trust, but who? I couldn’t think of a soul who wouldn’t shoot their own grandmother for her money. One would slice the other’s throat in a heartbeat. And mine. Not one of them wanted me or Pea. It was all about money.
I propped my knees up to the seat in front of me and looked over to Pea’s cartoon on her tablet. She smiled at me and we bumped heads. The urge to grab a pen and doodle a dollar sign on my arm was strong. The seven more hours on a bus didn’t sound so long anymore. How the hell was I supposed to do anything with a four year old? I couldn’t be sneaking her in and out of places we weren’t even supposed to be in. I wondered if anyone was on our trail, or were they hot on our trail in Vegas. I wondered if they figured out yet that I pulled the wool over their eyes, or did they mine? I found myself looking out the bus windows in search of a suspicious car. There were none. I sighed and drifted back in search of something that I’d missed along the line.
***
I will admit that I wore the tight black party dress and my hair down more for Blake than Ryan. Of course it turned out to be one big mess. Blake thought I looked like that to make him jealous, which I assured him was the furthest thing from the truth. I would have never met Ryan that first night had I not stuck my foot in my mouth. I knew he was dangling something over my head. I just didn’t know what.
It was a rather strange encounter. After a few words with Blake, I met Ryan in the elegant foyer. He looked very handsome, dressed down in jeans, brown leather shoes and a blazer. Our smiles met as I neared him.
“You look gorgeous. I made reservations at Challos.”
“Okay, nice,” I said like I knew what I was talking about. I tried to hide the excitement when he opened the door to the black Porsche. The interior was just like one my mom and I had driven. I had just gotten my driver’s license the day before and I was telling my mom how I was going to buy black convertible sports car. My mom pretended to get an emergency call in front of the director of nursing, crying about her car being in the garage. He fished his keys from his pocket and handed them over. That was a good day. My mom had gone back to work and she was feeling good. I’ll never forget the way she looked when I walked down those concrete steps at the library.
“What are you doing? Did you steal this?” I asked, running my finger over the gold Porsche emblem. That car was sweet.
“For the day, I did. Here,” she said, offering me the keys.
I caught the keys midair, “Are you crazy?”
“Yes, and I want you to be crazy too. Promise me you’ll always be crazy and never take life too serious.” I hated when she said stuff like that. It was always like she was throwing hidden hints about how she wanted me to live my life. It was never advice like Blake would give Pea. My mother would have never told me to work a thousand hours a week to buy more stuff. She told me stuff like this. Be crazy…
“Mom, this is a stick. I can’t drive a stick. Not to mention a very expensive stick. Where did you get this?”
Needless to say, I drove my first stick and it looked just like this. I tried to tell Ryan the story, but stopped when I found more humor in it than he did.
“I would never let a female drive this car,” Ryan assured me.
I weaved a few more webs with one little white lie that night. My mind worried about Ryan finding out that Barry Holden was my father. I worried about Blake finding out I was with Ryan. The thought of Blake finding out that I used him to get to Holden caused me to want the anxiety medication today. What the hell did I get myself into now?
If Ryan knew anything he didn’t show it. The entire date was weird, the restaurant we went to was beautiful and I got lost in the piano music. I was in awe and I didn’t even mind it when Ryan spent half the meal doing what Blake did, texting, taking calls, and sending emails. The piano player was magnificent. I hadn’t realized until that very moment how much I missed hearing it.
“You like piano?” Ryan asked disconnected, looking up from his phone.
“Yes. My mother played for the Chicago Symphony.”
“Really? That’s nice. Where is she now?”
“She died of cancer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
That was the extent of that conversation. I said it for the first time and to Ryan of all people. I turned my attention back to the beautiful sound when he turned his back to his phone. It must have been the music, that’s why I blurted that out. Although I mostly felt alone, I enjoyed my evening out. I enjoyed the sound of the piano and I enjoyed my favorite new wine. The food was just okay, but then again I’d just eaten noodles with Pea. Maybe I just wasn’t hungry. I was more in tune with the music than the food; now that was amazing. My mother would have been impressed. The young man played a lot like her. His eyes remained closed and his body carelessly swayed with emotion. He felt it. He felt the music. Voraciously consumed. That’s how my mom played. Like I was the only one she was playing for.
It made me curious about the August Förster in Blake’s home. Why didn’t he play it?
“So where did you meet Blake?”
“Craig’s List.” I have no idea why I said that. Why did I say that? I think I was caught
off guard, lost in nostalgic waves of notes I hadn’t heard in a while. Luckily Ryan laughed. Thank God.
My eyes went to my own phone at the same time Ryan’s went to his.
Blake—Having fun? Does he know how old you are? Maybe you should tell him. Maybe I should tell him. I forgot you don’t really tell anyone anything. Your life is none of no one else’s business. You coming home soon? I have a new tool I want to try out on you.
Me—You’re an idiot. Grow up. You’re not using anything on me. Sex. That’s it.
“Well thank you for supper,” I told Ryan as he pulled to the front of the hotel.
“You’re welcome. I had a good time. We should do it again sometime.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll see you around,” I said, hoping like hell he was not going to ask me to do that again. He barely even talked to me. “Hey, do you mind not letting Blake know about this?” I added.
Ryan leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, “Don’t worry. All your secrets are safe with me,” he whispered, holding his mouth close to my ear before leaving one more, soft kiss.
Great.
I declined the escort from James to the penthouse. I didn’t know James because I was never out this time of night alone. That’s not why I declined the attendant; I needed the fifty seven floors to clear my mind. Jesus. What just happened?
Blake was sitting on the piano bench when I entered, but not facing the piano. His knee bounced up and down and then he jumped up to meet me.
“Why do you want to date anyone? Did you kiss him?”
“Why? You’re the one who didn’t want us to be monogamous. Or was that one sided? You meant me, right, Blake? I can’t be with anyone else, just you. Well, too bad you didn’t write it that way. Sorry. Your rule, not mine.”
“You kissed him?”
“Not technically. He kissed me.”
“You kissed him back.”
“So what? I didn’t say I wouldn’t kiss anyone, just you. I don’t have a business arrangement with Ryan.” Why the hell didn’t I use another name? Gah!
“Fine whatever. I’m tired. Can we get this over with?”