Mikey
Brayden slung his backpack over his shoulders and ran into Natalie’s house before Mikey and Grace got out of the car.
“Obviously he likes Natalie,” Mikey remarked.
“Either that or my dad,” Grace said. “Bray’s never had a grandpa, has he?”
“You’re more right than I care to admit.” Mikey lagged behind while she followed Brayden into the house via the open garage door.
He found his kid sitting at the kitchen table facing off with Harry. That wasn’t something you saw every day; a ten-year-old and a grizzled cop having a staring contest.
Grace’s father said nothing as he took the lid off a box of chess, continuing to eyeball Brayden.
The women’s voices carried down the hallway from one of the back bedrooms turned office. Whatever they talked about sounded like a good time, considering the amount of laughter.
Harry set up the chess pieces on the board.
“Best of three,” Brayden said.
“All right, but don’t get upset when I beat you this time.”
Brayden’s eyes lit and he smiled. “We’ll see about that, Grandpa.” His tone suggested ‘grandpa’ was meant as an insult.
Mikey chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
“Your move, kid.” Harry allowed Brayden to go first.
Considering how serious the two of them were, Mikey was surprised not to see a timer clock on the table.
Natalie and Grace came into the kitchen.
“Ready to go?” Mikey asked Grace.
She nodded. “We’ll pick him up in the morning around nine-ish, ten?”
“That’s fine, you’ll probably find those two still playing chess when you get here,” Natalie said.
“Be good,” Mikey told Brayden.
“‘Kay, bye, Dad, bye Grace. Love you.”
“We love you too.” Mikey ushered Grace out of the house because if he didn’t, he’d wind up not wanting to leave, even though he trusted both of them. Now that his ex-wife Cynthia was gone, he felt Brayden was more vulnerable. Mikey fought his irrational fear daily. He didn’t want to burden Brayden with it.
* * *
Grace
The outside of the concert venue looked depressing and dangerous. Too many cars were packed into the tiny lot. Mikey parked his Ford on the end of an aisle. Another load of teenagers crammed their rusted beater between Mikey’s car and another. Grace didn’t think anything other than a motorcycle could fit. Mikey had to exit the car on her side. A group of leather clad men with chains hanging below their jackets walked past Grace and Mikey. After a couple seconds of near panicking, she realized the links were attached to wallets.
She squeezed Mikey’s hand. “Are you sure this place is safe?”
“Yeah. These are my peeps.”
“Great. These are the people my father warned me about.”
Mikey snorted. “Your dad warned you about me, remember?”
A truck rolled by, sloshing slush on her shoes and pant legs. She shook off her feet.
Mikey reached for the door handle and yanked it open. Warm air met her face. It smelled of sweat and tequila. Gross. She crinkled her nose. Everything was painted black.
A big burly mountain man with more tattoos than skin showing on his bare arms gave Mikey a stiff nod as they approached a roped area and a box office.
Two women dressed in wet-look leggings scooted around them. The mountain man stopped them and asked to search their purses. Afterward, the girls giggled past the rope, and he motioned Mikey and her forward.
“Hey, man,” the guy said, clasping her fiancé’s hand.
“Thanks again for the tickets,” Mikey said.
“Thanks for the touch-up.”
Grace drew her brows together. Touch-up? Duh, tats. She readied her bag for a search, except he waved them through.
“All good, ma’am.”
Oh, no, he didn’t. She didn’t look old. “Why does everyone call me ma’am?” she whispered to Mikey. “Do I look that old?”
“What? No. You’re beautiful and sexy as hell. He was trying to show me respect.”
“Well, that’s not very respectful to me,” she mumbled. Mikey hadn’t heard her. Grace felt like an old maid. Sure, she wasn’t 25 anymore, but still. Even Natalie didn’t get ma’amed. She was a petite woman with a youthful appearance and a shaggy pixie cut. No one would guess her real age.
They entered the club proper. On her right was a long bar with a roped off line like one would find at an amusement park ride. Directly in front, a stage spanned an entire wall. Stairs led down to a floor in front of the stage. A large crowd had already gathered waiting for the concert to start. Several people stood on stage, tuning guitars and setting up a drum kit.
Mikey ushered her toward a high two-top table overlooking the floor and stage. Grace glanced at a dance floor behind them. Random tiles were lit from beneath in red, blue, and gold, reminding her of something from the 70s.
She took her coat off and draped it over the back of the chair, keeping her purse in her lap. Mikey moved his chair next to hers instead of across the table. He pivoted her chair so she faced the stage.
He took her hand and kissed the palm. “Thank you for coming. I know this isn’t your favorite music.”
More people poured into the concert hall to the point Grace wondered if the fire code had been violated. God, she was a fuddy-duddy.
Chill, Grandma.
The opening band hit the stage and after the first chord struck, Grace wished she’d brought earplugs. Brayden had suggested she bring some. When she’d asked why, the kid only laughed.
Relief to her eardrums came when the band played a power ballad.
“You thirsty?” Mikey shouted in her ear.
“Yes!” she yelled back.
“I’m gonna see if I can get us some water.” He left her at the table and disappeared through the crowd.
Grace found herself singing along. She happened to know the song from the late 80s, or was it early 90s?
Someone bumped her chair and she smiled thinking it had been Mikey. Unfortunately, she frowned too late, and her smile encouraged a man with a full-arm sleeve to chat her up. He stood next to her leaning on the table.
She tried looking uninterested, which didn’t deter him in the slightest. Where the hell was Mikey?
“You look a little out of place,” he said.
No kidding.
“I mean you’re smoking hot, don’t get me wrong.”
“Thanks.” Why had she responded?
“Are you going to the after-party?”
“Since I don’t know what that is, no.”
“I can get you in.”
Oh…my… God. Grace looked cross-eyed directly at the stage. She glanced toward the bar over her right shoulder.
“I’m Cam, by the way.” He stuck his hand out for hers.
Why was that name familiar? She shook his hand despite her apprehension. How could she get rid of this guy? She searched for any sign of Mikey. Did he get lost?
She looked around and found Needles Ned from Ink Addiction heading toward her and Cam. She thought about pulling him over and pretending he was her boyfriend. He saw Grace too and zeroed in on her table.
Confusion marred Ned’s expression. “You here by yourself?”
“Mikey went to get some water.”
“Eric,” Cam said, “her and I were talking, you feel?”
Ned looked over the top of Grace’s head. “You may want to cool it.” He waved at Mikey. Cam swiveled his head.
Grace realized why she knew the name Cam. He was Mikey’s new employee.
“Hey, didn’t know you’d be here.” Mikey shook Ned’s hand then Cam’s. He set a glass of water on the table and kissed her temple.
“Always up for some tunes,” Ned said.
Cam’s face became a mask of I’m screwed, however, Grace had no intention of causing problems for the guy. Part of her was flattered at the attention, not that Mikey didn’t give her plenty. Cam mouthed, ‘Sorry’ to her. She waved him off.
Mikey narrowed his stare on the exchange, yet didn’t say anything. A little more back and forth took place before Ned and Cam walked off.
“So that’s the new guy?” she asked.
“Yep. Why did he apologize to you?”
“You saw that, huh? Nothing, no biggie.”
“He hit on you, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, but don’t fire him before he even starts.”
“I won’t, just let me know if he ever does it again.”
Grace smiled. “I don’t think he will.”