Chapter Six
Jennifer stared at the mirror. It used to be that she didn’t spend nearly this amount of time looking at herself, but after two weeks waiting tables, she quickly found that appearance mattered. More than she would ever like to admit. The more skin she showed, the better the tips. Not that she was willing to go too far with it, but showing a little didn’t seem to hurt anyone.
The black tank top seemed to be the perfect fit. Of course, it didn’t seem to matter to anyone that it was the middle of winter and freezing outside. She quickly pulled on a jacket.
Her mind drifted to Eric as she applied a little makeup. Ever since the night at his house, he’d kept his distance. She knew he was going out of his way to avoid her. It really shouldn’t have annoyed her as much as it did, but there was no helping how she felt. For as much as she knew he was trouble, she still couldn’t help but feel like he needed her.
It was silly really. He was a grown man, and there didn’t seem to be much that he needed, but the thought was still there.
The least she could say was that he didn’t seem to be drinking as heavily at work. She was sure he still did once he went home judging by the hangovers, but at least he was avoiding it at work. So instead of occupying the dark corner, he spent most of his time in the office at the back of the building running over numbers and mumbling to himself.
Jennifer jumped when her phone buzzed on her bed with a new message. She glanced over and sighed.
Charles.
Every day he’d tried to talk to her. She thought about blocking his number, but it seemed so mean, and, in truth, she just hoped that he’d go away.
This time the phone rang, and Jennifer smudged her eye liner.
Anger coursed through her, and she picked up the phone.
“What?” she said harshly.
“Well, that’s some greeting you’ve got there. I bet you’re one hell of a waitress,” her friend Candice said.
Jennifer sighed and cocked the phone up against her ear while she tried to fix her makeup.
“Sorry,” she said. “My phone is just driving me crazy.”
“Talked to your parents yet?” Candice asked.
Despite their different upbringings, Candice always understood about intrusive family. She had been raised in a very religious family. When she decided to go into design, it had been as if she turned her back on them all. It never really made much sense to Jennifer but then neither did her family.
“Nope,” she said, and stepped closer to the mirror.
Candice sighed and Jennifer knew what was coming next.
“You can’t ignore this forever,” she said. “They are your parents, and in the end, they just want what’s best for you.”
Jennifer snorted. “Is that right? Fine, let’s go there. Talked to your parents recently?”
It was a low blow, but she was tired of having to defend her choice not to call them.
“No,” Candice said quietly. “My grandmother is sick. Jake came to tell me.”
The pain in her voice was evident, and Jennifer wished she hadn’t brought it up. Jake was one of the few siblings Candice had who would still talk to her on a regular basis.
“I’m sorry,” Jennifer said, and set down the makeup she was holding. “Is it bad?”
The line went quiet for a moment. “I think it’s not going to be much longer,” she choked out.
“Oh, Candice.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. Hearing her pain was so hard.
“I just… She was always there, you know?”
Jennifer did know. When everyone else had told Candice that women didn’t belong at college, her grandmother had been the only one to tell her to follow her heart. She had believed in Candice, and Jennifer knew how much that meant.
“Enough about that,” Candice said, quickly changing the subject. “Tell me more about these yummy men at your work.”
Jennifer laughed loudly. Every time they talked it always somehow ended up in the same spot.
“Well,” she said. “Tommy came in last night.”
“Oh, the stripper?” Candice asked excitedly.
“He left some tickets.” Jennifer blushed.
“Yes!” Candice said excitedly. “You know they are supposed to have some of the best shows in town.”
Jennifer shook her head. She didn’t know that, but she suspected as much since Tommy often rolled up in nice wheels. Though it was hard to say given that he also worked as a waiter.
“You have to go,” Candice pleaded.
Jennifer chewed her lip. It was a bad idea. Not only would it piss off Crystal, but it would make both Patrick and Eric angry.
“I’ve got to go, or I’m going to be late.”
“You are the worst!” Candice groaned. “We are so going.”
“I’ll text you later.”
“Whatever.”
Jennifer paused for a moment before going on. “And you should call her.”
“My grandmother?” Candice asked.
Jennifer shook her head. “Your mom.”
“You first.”
Jennifer nodded. Candice was right.
“Okay. Talk to you later.”
“’Kay. And we are going.”
Jennifer hung up and grinned. This was one fight she was pretty sure she wouldn’t win.
* * *
Jennifer guessed there had to be a first time for everything, and the men at the table in the corner were her first time at being ogled with such obviousness, a totally different experience than just getting a better tip because of how she was dressed.
The blatant interest wasn’t a feeling she was used to, and she didn’t really know how to handle them.
“You just need to be firm,” Crystal said. “I’m not always going to be around to help you with this stuff.”
Jennifer nodded. Crystal was right. They were just men. She could deal with them.
She picked up the tray of beers and winced when one of them called out to her.
Slowly, she made her way over and set the pitcher and mugs on the table.
“Well, thank you, sweetheart,” the one seated next to her said. He smelled of cheap aftershave and stale cigars. She silenced the gag that threatened to come out when a breeze wafted toward her.
“Anything else I can get you all?” she asked sweetly.
The one on the other side gave a toothy smile.
“I’m sure we could think of something,” he said.
Her heart kicked up into her throat as she backed up.
“Well, you just let me know,” she said, and hurried away.
The men laughed loudly as she moved behind the counter.
“Good,” Crystal said, and smiled at her. It was a rare thing to get a smile from Crystal, and Jennifer would take it.
The chime from a phone rang loudly, and Jennifer watched as Crystal took out her phone and her eyes lit up.
A small blush spread across the woman’s face as she read the text. When she looked up, there was a twinkle to her eyes that only came on when Tommy was around.
“I need to leave for just an hour,” Crystal said quickly, taking off her apron.
She looked at the drunk older men, then back to Jennifer. “Think you could handle this?” she said quickly. “Just let Eric know if you need help.”
Jennifer opened her mouth to protest, but Crystal was already making her way up the stairs. She could see the plea in the other woman’s eyes.
Her gaze shifted to the men. She could do this. All she had to do was keep them in line. That was something she could manage.
Jennifer nodded and watched as Crystal walked out, leaving her totally on her own.
Chin up, she walked over to the men.
“You need another pitcher?” she asked, and picked up the now empty pitcher.
She jumped when a hand landed firmly on her ass.
“I’ll tell you what I need,” the toothy man from before said.
A chill ran over her. She twisted away, but his hand wrapped around her middle.
“Oh now, honey,” he said. The other two men at the table laughed like it was some great joke. “You didn’t even hear what I wanted to ask.”
“Let me go,” she said loudly.
His hand only squeezed tighter, and she winced at his grip.
“Mother fucker!”
Eric’s powerful fist came flying from behind her and connected with the man’s face. He instantly let go, and she moved away.
“What the fuck, man?” the man said, and held his now bleeding nose.
Eric stepped forward and pulled the man up by the scruff of his shirt.
“You don’t ever fucking touch her,” he yelled in the man’s face. He shook him so hard Jennifer was sure she could hear his teeth rattling.
“Okay,” the man said. The man’s voice was pinched and whiny.
Eric tossed him back onto the table. “Now get out of my bar.”
The other two men looked from one to the other. For a second, she thought they might try something, but none of them measured up to Eric in the least. Still, she was surprised when they moved toward the door without much trouble.
Holding his nose, the toothy man stood up and pushed past her.
“Cunt.”
Eric moved in front of her like a flash.
“What?” he asked. His voice was deadly quiet as he spoke, and for a second, Jennifer worried that the other man might be in serious danger.
The man scrambled away and pushed with the others up the stairs. When they reached the top, the man pulled his hand away from his face and stared at them with hatred. Blood poured down freely.
He sniffed up the blood and spit it on the floor.
“Fuck you both,” he said, and stormed out the door.
Eric made a move to the door but stopped when she wrapped a hand around his arm.
“Please,” she said. Her voice shook as she spoke, but she couldn’t help it.
Needing something to do, Jennifer led him over to the table and sat him down. His fist was already starting to swell from the punch he’d delivered. She raced over to the ice bin and placed a scoop onto a towel. Another she wetted.
Jennifer bundled up the ice and carried it to him. Squatting on the floor, she placed the ice on the table.
When she pulled his hand out it was bloodied, and she worried that he might have cut himself. She slowly wiped off all the blood. His knuckles were red and swollen, but it didn’t seem like there was any bleeding.
Gently, she ran her fingers over the swollen part and turned it over to check the other side. They were rough from labor and scraped against her skin. She looked up to him and found he was watching her with interest. Jennifer grabbed the towel with the ice and placed it on his hand. He hissed at the contact, and she winced. If it hurt that much now, it was likely going to really hurt later.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. Her voice cracked as she spoke, and tears choked her.
“Hey,” Eric said, and placed the ice back on the table.
He placed his hands on her shoulders. She tipped her head up to look at him.
“Did they hurt you?” he asked.
Jennifer shook her head, afraid she wouldn’t be able to get the words out.
The air rushed out of her as he pulled her hard to his chest and wrapped his arms around her.
“It’s okay,” he whispered against her ear. “You go ahead and let it out.”
As if she needed the permission, the tears fell freely, and she sucked in shuddered sobs.
Eric’s hands moved up and down her back in a comforting motion and, in the end, helped to ease the tension.
“You were so brave,” he said, and pulled her back to look at him.
When she looked at him, all she saw was the gentle man she had previously glimpsed.
Jennifer shook her head. “I’m not brave,” she said quietly. “I’m weak, and I should have done something.”
“No,” Eric said. His nostrils flared. “Those asswipes shouldn’t have done that to begin with,” he said. “And you shouldn’t ever think that way. You kept it together and didn’t let them see you rattled. You are so strong.”
She stared at him for a moment before slowly moving in. Her lips brushed his in a gentle kiss. Eric seemed surprised and almost unsure of what to do.
Jennifer scooted in closer between his legs. Gently, she cupped his cheek and ran her fingers into his hair. She smiled when she felt his hands wrap around her again and pull her even farther in. She licked the seam of his mouth and moaned when he opened. Their tongues met, but it was a slow kiss, neither wanting it to end.
She pulled back for air and gasped when he trailed kisses along her mouth and down the side of her neck. His stubble scraped the tender skin there, and she reveled in the feeling. Eric reached her collar bone and traced the line of it with his tongue.
Her hands gripped his shoulders as he moved lower, just above the line of her tank top. She opened her eyes and pulled back.
There was no question. Jennifer wanted him. Good, bad, ugly. It didn’t matter how long they had known each other. She needed him. Needed to feel his skin against her own.
Holding his eyes, she reached down to the hem of her shirt.
“Jennifer?”
She froze and turned from where she was. “Mom?”
Jennifer stared at her mother’s horror-stricken face.
“Maybe you should get up off the floor, Jennifer,” her father said. “I think you have some explaining to do.”