Chapter 2
Mr. Garcia frowned, but said nothing.
I wasn’t sure if this was because he didn’t like what was being said, or because he didn’t like being approached like this. He was ill prepared, and clearly he was just out on the town for a peaceful night.
Not so he could be accosted by some greasy lawyer.
I was suddenly angry on Mr. Garcia’s behalf, and I didn’t think he did it either. I wanted to march over there, and toss Alex Coldwell out onto the street, but I also knew that might make matters worse.
It was not my place to get involved in personal matters. As long as the argument didn’t result in a physical altercation, and or damage to our property then I was supposed to keep my head down, and my nose out of it.
Not always an easy task, but one we endeavored to uphold nonetheless.
“You need to control the narrative, Mr. Garcia. I can spin this story, and make it seem like you’re the victim here, but I need your full cooperation,” Alex pressed.
God, this man was like a shark who smelled blood.
He really was going in for the kill.
Unfortunately for him, in the short time since I’d known Mr. Garcia, there was one thing I knew with utmost certainty.
Mr. Garcia was as stubborn as they came with the tenacity of a bull.
I almost pitied Alex.
Just barely.
“Do you make it a habit to harass your prospective clients in a place where they go out?’ Mr. Garcia asked, his voice deadly quiet, his easy countenance suddenly replaced with something else.
Alex leaned back wearily. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting this response, and his expression wavered for a second as his mouth twitched.
“Of course not, Mr. Garcia. I simply wanted a chance---”
“To tell me that I would be screwed if I didn’t accept your help?” Mr. Garcia asked, sardonically. His voice was as hard as steel, and his eyes were hardly less forgiving. Those dark eyes that usually sparkled with merriment and laughter were now drawn shutters. Emotionless and bottomless in their depth.
Alex pressed his mouth into a thin line as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, I apologize if I overstepped my bounds, but once I got the tip, I had to act on it.”
“Because you’re a young hot shot attorney who’s trying to make a name for himself? What are you, 28?” Mr. Garcia said it with such derisiveness that Alex shifted uncomfortably.
“I fail to see how my age bears any relevance here,” Alex said, his tone frosty.
Finally, he had recovered, and he was finally starting to understand that Mr. Garcia wasn’t a pushover.
“Of course, you wouldn’t. I sincerely doubt that your firm would be happy to hear about how you conduct business here.”
“Mr. Garcia I—”
“Silence,” Mr. Garcia bellowed. “I will not sit here and be mocked as if I was some toddler who needed guidance. I have been in this business for many years, Mr. Coldwell. It taught me a thing or two about people, and I don’t want an attorney who has his head up his ass.”
Ruth and I both clamped our mouths shut as the giggles threatened to escape. Our bodies shook with suppressed laughter as we watched Alex pale after that comment.
Obviously, he wasn’t expecting that either.
Frank Garcia had just roasted him.
Frank who was at least a decade older, and looked like an Italian stereotype, but owned it.
Yeah, this was definitely something I was glad I didn’t miss.
Alex abruptly stood up. “I’m a hard ass because I have to be, and believe me, it’s helped me win a lot of cases, and you’re the one who has a lot to lose here, Mr. Garcia, so when you’re more concerned about striking back rather than licking your wounds like some wounded puppy, give me a call.”
Mr. Garcia’s eyes went as wide as saucers.
“In the meantime, here’s my card if you change your mind.” Alex tossed his card onto the booth, took some money out of his wallet and slipped his jacket back on.
As he walked past us, I was sure that there would some sign of defeat on his face. He was supposed to look nonplussed, or something. However, it was the complete opposite.
He looked relaxed and confident.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Mr. Garcia staring at the card before he pocketed it, and quietly went back to his meal.
My eyes met Alex’s before he stepped outside, and he gave me a quick wink and a little salute. I stared at him, unsure of what to make of that until the door swung shut behind him, and the tension in the pub dissipated
Nervous chatter broke out across the pub as the volume rose to a crescendo. It seemed we weren’t the only ones who were listening with barely concealed interest. Not that they made an effort to hide their quarrel, but still.
A conversation of that magnitude was best conducted in private. Mr. Garcia was right about that least. Although I did admire the cutthroat way in which Alex pursued Mr. Garcia.
Mr. Garcia did have a point about approach though, so if he did end up hiring Alex, it certainly wouldn’t be for his table manners nor for his subtlety. In a case like this though, I was guessing that you needed a lion in your corner.
“Goodness, it’s not everyday we get that kind of excitement around here,” Ruth breathed as she mock fanned herself. “I thought for sure that a brawl would break out.”
“They’re both grown men, Ru. I doubt that would’ve happened even if Alex hadn’t left.”
“Honey, men are almost always fueled by testosterone. If they feel like another man is challenging that, it turns into a dick waving contest.”
I choked back a laugh at her description. “What an interesting way to describe it.”
***
“Mama, I’m home,” I called out as I balanced a box of pizza and removed the key from the lock. Mr. Garcia felt so bad about the scene he’d caused that he tipped us generously, so we all split it equally.
I decided to treat myself and my mom to a box of take out pizza instead of figuring out what we were going to cook.
“Do I smell pizza?” My mother came out of the room, barefoot, and in a pair of capri jeans with the sleeves rolled up, a shirt that was two sizes too big, and hair that was sticking out on all ends.
“Yup, I got a generous tip today, so I figured I’d treat us.” I announced happily as I kicked the door shut with the back of my foot. The smell of pepperoni pizza invaded my nostrils and made my mouth water.
My mom threw her arms around me in a hug. “Honey, you’re always spoiling me.”
“If I can afford it, why not?” I asked, warmly as I struggled to keep the pizza upright and hug her back.
“In that case, the pizza’s all mine,” she said, cheekily as she swiped the pizza from my hand and tauntingly dangled it front of me.
“Now, mother,” I began. “Is it really good parenting if you let your kid starve?”
My mother raised an eyebrow as she leaned her hip against the counter. “Are you seriously going for that argument? You’re 22, and you can fend for yourself.”
I slipped off my shoes and kicked them away. “I am offended that you would say that. What happened to the fact that I’m your baby girl, and you would forever look out for me? What happened to offering me the clothes off your back, the food off your plate—”
“Whoa, hey, let’s not get crazy. I’ll give you the clothes off my back, but the food? I’m not negotiating when it comes to food.”
“You wound me, mother. Where is the love?”
“That’s easy. It’s right here. Directed towards this beautiful melted cheese and pepperoni pizza.” She flipped the box open and sighed deeply.
I could smell it from where I was standing as I slipped off the sweater, and my stomach growled.
“Alright, drama queen. I don’t need you to demonstrate how loud your stomach can be. Get your butt over here.”
My mother placed the pizza on the counter and rummaged around for plates. Once she produced the paper plates, she opened the fridge and took out a huge bottle of coke and set out two glasses.
“There, a meal fit for kings,” she announced as she proudly gestured to the table in front of her.
I gave a mock curtsey as I dragged out my chair and plopped onto it. “Only the best for us, mama.”
My mom eyed me curiously when she spotted the t-shirt I was wearing. “You weren’t wearing that this morning, were you?”
“No, Ruth lent it to me after I spilled food on mine,” I explained as I reached out for my slice of pizza. I yelped as I yanked my hand back as I realized how hot it actually was.
My mother shook her head. “You always were a tad impatient.”
“We had an interesting day at work today,” I commented in between mouthfuls of pizza.
“Oh, how so?”
I chewed thoughtfully then swallowed. “Mr. Garcia was approached by some hotshot lawyer.”
“That nice fellow? I don’t understand. He doesn’t seem the sort to hurt a fly.” My mother’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Surely, there must be some mistake.”
“That’s what I said, but yeah apparently this woman who works for him is suing him because of sexual harassment.”
My mom began to click her tongue together in disapproval. “I really hope it isn’t true because if we’re wrong about Mr. Garcia then how are we supposed to tell anymore?”
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” I said, somberly.
“Yes,” My mother agreed. “Oh, well, do you want to watch tv after dinner?”
“Sure.”
***
For the next few weeks, my classes were during the day, so Mr. Rothman had agreed to change my shift to the nighttime, but I really wasn’t looking forward to it. One of the perks of taking the day to afternoon shift was avoiding customers who were particularly rowdy.
I had no idea what it was about nighttime that made people more promiscuous. Was it the soft allure of the shiny moon? The way the world seemed blanketed in a constellation of stars?
Personally, I liked how much softer the world seemed when night came. I know some people disagreed. They said that it made the world crueler, and that fewer crimes happened during the day than at night.
I think that was just because emotions ran so high, people didn’t know what to do with them. If they had the right outlet, things would be so different.
“It’s that fancy lawyer again,” Ruth whispered as she tied her apron next to me.
“He’s back?” My tone was laced with surprise as I slipped on my sneakers.
“Yeah, you didn’t really think he was going to give up that easily, did you darling? He’s a piranha that one. Though I will admit, I admire his stubbornness. Reminds me of a Doberman I once had.”
I snickered at the analogy she just made because I had a hard time reconciling the image of Alex Coldwell, powerful and capable attorney to that of a huge slobbery dog.
Still, it was funny.
“Round 2. Do you think Mr. Garcia will punch him this time? How much do you want to bet he won’t?” I asked, conspiratorially.
“Shame on you trying to profit off the man’s misfortune,” Ruth admonished, sternly.
“You just don’t want to lose,” I teased as we stepped outside and waited for people to settle, so we could see who was going to be where.
“Twenty bucks miss big mouth.”
I held out my hand, a grin threatening to erupt onto my face. “You’re on.”
I was hoping Mr. Garcia didn’t actually punch him for different reasons.
Alex Coldwell was a lawyer.
He could get Frank Garcia in serious trouble if he wanted to, and something told me he wouldn’t feel as charitable towards a client he was trying to win over if said client socked him.
Granted, it wasn’t airtight logic, but it made complete sense in retrospect.
I made sure the sash was tied properly before I gathered my hair into a ponytail and plastered on my best fake smile. I was in charge of a group of loud twenty-something year olds who were horsing around.
They all looked like they were still in college or fresh out of it by the youthful looks on their faces, and the jaunt in their step. I silently prayed that they wouldn’t give me a hard time tonight.
“Hello, what can I get you guys?”
One of them, a sandy blonde with chocolate colored eyes chuckled at something his friends said and glanced down at the menu.
“Can we have five beers?”
“Sure. Can I get you anything else?”
“Chips, salsa and hot wings as well,” he rattled off as the rest of his buddies hooted and hollered.
Inwardly, I rolled my eyes as I kept my eyes on the notepad. When I was done jotting down the order, I forced myself to look up with a slight edge to my smile.
“Alright. Anything else?”
“Yeah, how about you flash us?” One of them asked, and he and his buddies snickered at the inappropriate behavior.
My smile fell, but I managed to keep my expression neutral. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”
“Why not? We’ll give you a really good tip,” Another one said, quite seriously as he let his gaze slide over me in a way that was perverted and disgusting.
I shifted and crossed my arms over my chest. “Like I said, not possible.”
The third one puckered his lips and pretended to hug himself. “I could give you some sugar.”
I stared at him till he stopped what he was doing then I narrowed my gaze and gave him a death glare. He began to shift uncomfortably in his seat as the rest of the laughter died down.
I levelled them all with a look that could’ve melted polar caps, courtesy of growing up in a rough neighborhood, and spun on my heel. I slammed the note down a little too hard as I called out the order through gritted teeth.
“Did you get a tough crowd too?” Ruth asked, glumly as she gave her clients the stink eye.
“Yeah, either last year of college or fresh grads. You?”
“Middle aged men.” Ruth grimaced as she placed her hands on her hips. “You know what the good news is?”
“What?”
“They usually over tip when they’re drunk.” She gave me a quick wink as she balanced her drinks on a tray and went to her booth.
I began to massage my temples in slow circular motions as I tried not to stare at Alex out of the corner of my eye. He was sitting at the bar nursing a whiskey neat with his sleeves rolled up, and a somber look on his face.
From this angle, he seemed a lot less severe, and a lot less relatable.
Less like a piranha, more like a guy who did his best to stay ahead of the game because he knew that in the cutthroat world of law there was no way he was going to make it out alive unless he threw the first punch.
It was admirable in a way, but regardless.
I severely disliked lawyers especially after the way they screwed my mom and I when my dad walked out. Apparently, he left a legacy of bad debts in my mom’s name, and when he skipped there was no one to pay them.
Mom had to take out a mortgage on the house just to be able to pay everything off. She hated doing it especially because the bank seized the house after a while, but it was necessary.
We were able to move in to another place, a smaller apartment with nobody we knew, and a clean slate. We both needed it.
I noticed Alex signal for a waitress, and with everyone else so busy, I had no choice but to attend to him. With my heart hammering in my chest nervously, I felt like a schoolgirl as I approached him.
“What can I get ya?” I asked as I tried to sound upbeat and happy.
“Can I get another glass of whiskey and some chips?” he asked without looking at me. His eyes were trained on something on the wall, and I would’ve tried to see what it was, but I knew that determined look.
He was thinking about something intently, his head a million miles away.
“Sure thing,” I said, quietly as I stepped behind the counter and fixed him the drink. His chips were ready in no time, and I placed those in front of him as well.
He gave no indication that he noticed any of this, so I quietly slipped away and left him to it.
Alex was even more handsome than I remembered. Or maybe I had just suppressed that memory because it was easier not to be attracted to him. He seemed like a hardball, and that was the last thing I needed right now.
It was strange because I wasn’t one to make snap judgments, but based on what I’d seen so far, the evidence was working against him.
“He hasn’t tried to approach Mr. Garcia yet?” Ruth half whispered as she took a quick peak at Frank Garcia who was dining quietly in a quiet corner in the back. He looked pensive and somber which was unlike him.
Then again, getting hit with a sexual harassment lawsuit will do that to a person.
“I think he’s getting ready to,” I murmured, quietly as I arranged some things in no particular order. I was nervous, and I had no idea why.
So, I began to fidget.
Not the best of habits, but oh, well.
We both discreetly glanced over at Alex who hadn’t budged an inch. The only difference is he was no longer staring at a blank spot on the wall. Instead, he was just squinting at his glass of whiskey as if it had offended him somehow.
He lifted his hands up, and Ruth nudged me in his general direction causing me to stumble forward. I shot her a look before I went over to Alex.
“Is everything okay?”
“I just wanted to know. Is this alcohol local?”
“It is, yeah. The owner is Irish, so he knows his stuff.”
Alex swirled the drink around the cup, careful not to let it slosh over the side. The movement was both mesmerizing and distracting in equal measure, and I tried to keep my eyes focused on his face.
“Are you sure he didn’t steal it from someone else?” Alex asked, mildly, his gaze sharp and alert as it focused on me.
My mouth pressed into a thin line. “Why would he? He doesn’t stand to gain anything if he does.”
Alex held up his fingers and began to count. “Fame, money, potentially power as well.”
“Not everything is a ploy designed to move us further,” I pointed out. “It’s not a game.”
“It is very much like a game. We are all chess pieces, being moved into place, but if we’re lucky enough, some of us anticipate our move and grow to like it.”
“That makes us sound like pawns in a much larger scheme.”
“A euphemism if you will.” He tilted his head in my direction, his eyes studying me with barely concealed interest.
I couldn’t tell if he was waiting for a response, or if it was simply rhetorical. I obviously wasn’t the person he should be having this conversation with.
This needed someone far more philosophical and far less sentimental.
Definitely not me in other words.
“Then don’t play by the rules,” I said, finally.
Alex paused with the cup halfway to his mouth. He looked at me over the rim of his cup, his eyes surprisingly clear and a warm shade of blue like the azure sky over a beach.
“I’m not sure it’s quite that simple,” he responded as he took a big sip.
“Why shouldn’t it be? As humans, we really do complicate things a lot more than necessary,” I declared as I tried not to think too much about what I was saying.
I wasn’t trying to impress him.
Okay, maybe I was, but I was also careful not to say anything I didn’t believe in. These were all things I wholeheartedly agreed with.
“Do we? Do elaborate.” He placed the cup in front of him and leaned forward eagerly.
I tried to ignore the proximity and focused on the train of thought, but it was like an unraveling thread that was quickly slipping away from me.
“Alright, well take the initial stages of dating, for example. Why do we give such different advice to women and men?”
“Such as?” he prompted, his eyes alight with curiosity.
“Men are told not to call right away, right? Make her wait for a few days. Don’t let her think you’re desperate, and all that jazz.” I waved my hand about to illustrate my point.
A smile tugged on the corner of Alex’s lips. “Sure, that’s more or less accurate.”
“Now, women, on the other hand, we’re told to play it cool, play hard to get and not act clingy.”
“Go on.”
“So, why do we do that? What could we possibly hope to gain by acting hot and cold? If a woman does that, she’s not being true herself. We’re supposed to be nurturing and sometimes too much, but that’s just because we feel too much. That isn’t something to hide. Emotions are not some kind of stigma we need to wash off,” I explained as I rested my arms on either side of the counter.
“Now when it comes to men, I understand that for most of them, it’s the thrill of the chase. The need to be with different women because they don’t want to settle, and why should they? They’ve been raised to believe that settling down is all about the sacrifice, so why do that when you can enjoy the hunt?”
Alex nodded, an impressed look on his face. “You’ve obviously given this a lot of thought.”
“Not really,” I admitted. “It’s just something that’s been sloshing around up there.”
“It’s an intriguing notion, regardless. So, what do you think is the solution for the men who like the chase?”
“Honestly? I think that if a man wants to chase women, and you don’t want that, just move on. A real man won’t want to play games with you. He’ll be honest, and he’ll commit. I don’t believe men when they say we deserve better or that bullshit they try to feed us. If a man really wants to be with you, he’ll make the effort. Plain and simple.”
“Sounds like you have a lot of experience in that department,” Alex commented as he ran his hands through his hair causing it to stick out on all ends.
“Not really. I just observe a lot.”
“I like your observations. You could be a good lawyer.”
I snorted. “No, thank you.”
“Not up to your standards?” Alex raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not that. It’s just not the kind of profession I want to be in. Lying for a living and all that. No offense, or anything.”
“None taken.” Alex brushed the comment away. “I’m used to it, but there’s a lot more to it than that. We get to help people, you know.”
“I suppose,” I agreed, begrudgingly.
A bell dinged to signal that my order was finished. I gave Alex an apologetic look as I glanced behind me. “I have to go.”
Alex nodded understandingly. “I’m Alex, by the way.”
“I’m Sandy,” I introduced as I hurried away, but not before I caught the glint in his eye.
Why was he expressing interest here?
I was far from his type if the way he dressed was any indication.
Maybe he was just looking for a fling.
In which case he was barking up the wrong tree. It wasn’t that I was looking for commitment or anything, but Alex and I didn’t to have anything in common.
Not even enough to have fun and enjoy each other’s company.
That was a requisite for me. If I wasn’t going to date seriously then the least I could do was to date someone I could have things in common with.
I picked up the tray, carefully placed the orders as I headed towards the booth. They had gotten louder if possible, and snippets of conversation reached my ears.
They were making inappropriate jokes at this point, and I didn’t want to be anywhere near them, but I had no choice. The problem was that I knew how inappropriate jokes could escalate from just talking to acting.
A few lewd remarks were tossed around once I bent over to place the food on the table. I even felt a few people eyeing my backside, but I swallowed my tongue and served the food.
As long as they didn’t touch me, we were good.
That was the one golden rule they couldn’t break.
The rule that gave me license to kick them out.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I made it back to the counter without any incidents. The smell of alcohol and stale smoke became too much to handle, so I asked Ruth if I could step outside for a bit.
I threw my weight against the door, pushing it open, and I pulled the sweater tighter around my body. The street where the pub was located was relatively quiet with just the sound of crickets to fill the night air.
I inhaled the crisp scent of the night air which smelled like grass, and a faint hint of the freesias that were planted nearby. I hopped onto the railing, swung below it, and swung my legs over, letting them dangle over the edge.
My hands immediately went to my pockets, and I took out a strip of gum and placed it in my mouth. I began to chew quite enthusiastically as I let the wind blow around me, whipping my hair free from its ponytail.
I took one hand to tuck my hair behind my ears when the door swung open, and the sound of laughter escaped. I craned my neck to see who it was, and it was one of the boisterous students from my table.
I turned my head back, determined to ignore him as I heard him rummage around for something in his pocket. Soon, I heard the lighter, and I smelled the smoke as he blew it out of his mouth.
“It’s a fine night, isn’t it?” he asked, conversationally.
“Yeah,” I agreed, quietly.
I heard him shift as he moved, so he was standing right behind me. “Do you want one?”
I shook my head. “I don’t smoke.”
“Too bad. It’s a habit that I’ve grown to love,” the man said.
I shrugged in response.
Why was he talking to me?
I certainly didn’t want to be talking to him. Not after the way he and his friends reacted. He was a pervert, and I didn’t feel comfortable being out here alone with him, but since he hadn’t actually done anything, I felt slightly paranoid.
Before I knew what he was doing, he had joined me in the position I was in. He was so close I could smell the booze reeking off of him like a second skin. I shifted slightly as I shoved both hands in my pockets and stared straight ahead.
“I noticed you back there,” he said as he blew a ring of smoke out of his mouth in an ‘O’ fashion.
“I don’t think this is appropriate,” I said, calmly as I worked to keep the fear out of my voice. Whatever his intentions were, they certainly weren’t noble.
I turned, getting ready to go back inside when he yanked on my hand, pulling me backwards. I stared down at our hands, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Let go of me,” I said, firmly as I tried to use my hands to extract myself.
“Now, come on, sugar. I made small talk, didn’t I? The least you could do is be friendly.”
He turned his gaze to mine, and what I saw reflected in their depths scared me. My survival instincts immediately kicked in, and I twisted in his grasp.
It took him by surprise, and I immediately leapt up and began to yell, but the noise coming from inside was too loud. Next thing I knew, he had his hand clamped over my mouth, and he held my hands behind my back.
“I asked nicely, but since you won’t comply, I guess that means I’ll have to be clearer,” he whispered into my ear as his breath tickled the back of my neck.
I shuddered in revulsion, but he mistook it for desire because he angled me forward, so that I was pressed against the wall. My eyes began to well up with unshed tears as my mind raced to come up with a solution.
I couldn’t let this bastard get the upper hand otherwise who knows what might happen?
I squirmed beneath him, trying to use my legs as leverage, but he just pushed my legs apart, so that he was pressed against me from the back. I could feel his bulge between my butt cheeks, and pure unaltered panic began to course through my veins.