CHAPTER SIX | OLIVIA
“I would invite you back to my place,” Duke said with a sly smile, “but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea…”
“Not funny,” I scowled as I dug a hand into my jeans pocket, feeling around for cash to close out my tab at the bar.
“Come on,” Duke said. “You gotta admit this is kinda funny. When I heard the name Beck, I just assumed you were a guy…”
“I thought you knew,” I shrugged. “But it shouldn’t matter, anyways…”
“Well, it does matter.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Duke scoffed. “Five minutes ago you were saying that all men are disgusting pigs—”
“I never said that!”
“You basically said that,” Duke blinked at me. “If you hate men so much, why would you agree to live with one, anyways?”
“Desperation? Lack of better options?” I shrugged, pulling a wrinkled twenty dollar bill out of my pocket and smoothing it out with my fingers. “I don’t know. I guess I was hoping that you’d be different.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” he smirked. Then he passed his debit card to the bartender on the other side of the bar and added, “I got this.”
“No way! I’m not going to let you buy me a drink!”
“I thought that was part of the routine?” Duke teased.
“I’m not doing this,” I grumbled. I tossed the twenty dollar bill onto the bar. The bartender glanced up at me, confused.
“Keep the change,” I snapped. Then I grabbed my duffel bag, swung it over my shoulder, and stormed towards the exit.
The white glare of the afternoon sun was blinding when I stepped outside. I winced as I retraced my steps towards Trumbull Street until I found a bench on the sidewalk.
I dumped my duffel bag at my feet, then I took a seat. The bench had been baking in the summer sun all afternoon, and the metal grate burned under my ass like red-hot electric coils on a stovetop. I rolled back, so just my shorts were touching the bench, and then I pulled out my cell phone.
I clicked open the web browser and paused. I had two options. I could book a ticket on the next bus back to Rhode Island, or I could look for a hotel room here in Hartford. The latter would buy me more time… but it wasn’t a real solution.
I still have nowhere to stay, I realized. And I can’t afford to live out of a hotel indefinitely…
I was still trying to plot my next move when I saw a shadow appear overhead. For the second time that day, I glanced up and found myself staring into Duke Williams’ brown eyes. Now, in the sunlight, they looked like little pots of golden brown honey.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to come home with me,” he said.
“Why would I do that?” I had to pinch my eyes shut to block out the glare of the sun.
“Look,” he sighed, dropping down onto the empty section of bench next to me. “I know you don’t like me—”
“I don’t,” I confirmed.
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual,” he rolled his eyes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you need a place to stay, and I need someone to pay half of my rent.”
“Well, there are plenty of fish in the sea.”
“You said yourself that you were desperate,” he reminded me.
“Not this desperate.”
“Ok,” he shrugged, thrusting his feet down onto the sidewalk and standing up abruptly. “You know what? Fine. Good luck, Beck. Or Olga or whatever the hell your name is.”
Olga?! Seriously?
He slid a pair of black Wayfarers over his eyes and muttered something else under his breath as he stalked down the sidewalk. I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as I watched him pause at the street crossing.
Don’t do this, Olivia… I thought to myself. This is a dumb idea…
Before I could stop myself, I swung my duffel bag over my shoulder and jogged down the sidewalk after him.
“Olivia,” I said.
“Huh?” he glanced at me.
“My name is Olivia,” I repeated. “Not Olga.”
“Ok?”
The pedestrian symbol on the crosswalk lit up and a cluster of bodies trampled past us as they filed across the street. Duke didn’t budge.
“I guess we can give this a try,” I said. Then I added quickly, “At least until something better comes along.”
“Jeez,” he snorted. “Are you this sweet to all the boys, or just the ones you like?”
“There’s one condition,” I said, ignoring the remark.
“What’s that?”
“I want you to treat me like I’m just one of the guys.”
“You sure about that?” his eyebrows shot up over the tops of his Ray Ban sunglasses.
“I’m sure.”
He frowned thoughtfully, and then he shrugged.
“All right, Beck. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
***
“Wow,” I whistled through my teeth as I did a three-sixty, slowly scanning my eyes around the apartment.
“Not too shabby, eh?” Duke asked, trailing behind me.
“It’s amazing,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “How did you even find this place?”
“Let’s just say I have my connections,” he winked mysteriously.
Duke had sent me a few cell phone snapshots of the vacant bedroom and ensuite bathroom. I thought the unit looked nice enough — especially for the price — but now that I was standing in the center of the gourmet kitchen, I realized that those snapshots hadn’t even come close to doing the apartment justice: the place was stunning.
The apartment was a juxtaposition of rustic and modern: the walls were a rugged, rusty orange exposed brick and the ceilings were vaulted and accented by thick, weathered cedar beams that ran the length of the room. In contrast, the kitchen was entirely modern: stainless steel appliances, handleless wooden cabinets, slick black granite countertops…
The kitchen opened straight into a living room, which was outlined by a wall of floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the Connecticut River and, beyond it, the skyline of downtown Hartford.
“The kitchen is fully stocked, by the way,” Duke informed me as he hovered over a stainless steel gas cooktop. “Do you like to cook?”
Before I could answer, he added quickly, “And no, I’m not just asking you that because you’re a woman.”
I rolled my eyes.
“That depends,” I said. “Do sandwiches and ramen noodles count as cooking?”
Duke wrinkled his nose in disgust. I’ll take that as a no…
I flicked open one of the cabinet drawers and glanced down at the contents, an assortment of shiny chrome cooking utensils and tools.
“Oh, wow,” I said, eyeing the drawer apprehensively. “It looks like a Williams-Sonoma store threw up in there.”
I picked up a spiked mallet that looked like some sort of medieval torture device and I practiced giving it a few swings.
“Ahh, the meat tenderizer. That’s one of my favorite kitchen utensils,” Duke said, flashing me a playful smile.
“It is?”
“Oh yeah,” he nodded enthusiastically. “It’s great for smashing the patriarchy, or just general ball-busting…”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I winked as I dropped the mallet back into the drawer and nudged it shut with my hip.
“Come on,” Duke said, nodding for me to follow him through the apartment. “Your bedroom is over here.”
He pushed open a door off the living room, then he glanced over his shoulder:
“I’d say ladies first, but…” then he shrugged and stepped into the room ahead of me.
Just like the living room, the bedroom had a pair of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked down on the same view of the river below.
“I don’t remember you mentioning furniture,” I said, pointing to a plain bed frame and mattress that were pushed against one wall and a matching dresser positioned on the other side of the room. “Is that included?”
“Oh, that,” Duke said, glancing at the bed. “Well… you mentioned that you weren’t bringing any furniture with you. I figured you’d need somewhere to sleep and put your clothes. So I went to Ikea. Have you heard of that place? It’s crazy. I had no idea it existed until my old roommate, Josh, brought me there—”
“You bought me a bed and a dresser?” I frowned, confused.
“Well… yeah,” he shrugged. “I know it’s not much. I just thought you could use something to get you started…”
“You did this for me?” I felt my insides start to soften, like a stick of butter in the summer sun.
“Technically I did it for a guy named Beck,” Duke clarified, holding up a finger. “So don’t try to spin this around. This wasn’t some weird ploy to get into bed with you.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“Was that a genuine laugh, or an obligated laugh?”
“Genuine,” I assured him with a smile. “Thank you, Duke. This is probably one of the nicest things that anyone has ever done for me.”
“Well that’s sad,” Duke scoffed, turning back to the bed. “It’s just Ikea furniture…”
I sighed and tossed my duffel bag onto the bed.
This is home… I thought to myself. At least for now.
“Well,” Duke said, “I guess I’ll leave you to unpack…”
He made it to the bedroom door before I stopped him.
“Hey, Duke, wait a sec.”
“What’s up?” he glanced back at me over his shoulder.
“I owe you an apology,” I said. “For the way I treated you earlier, at the bar.”
He turned slowly to face me, but he didn’t say anything.
“I overreacted,” I continued. “You didn’t deserve any of that. You didn’t do anything wrong… you were just being friendly.”
His brow wrinkled and he pressed his lips together like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.
“The truth is, I was already pissed off by the time I got to Vaughan’s,” I explained. “There were these creepy guys who were following me on the street, and—”
“You were followed?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “That kind of thing happens all the time. I’m sure they were harmless. In their own twisted heads, they probably thought that they were giving me a compliment. I don’t think they realize how upsetting that can be for a woman, or how unsafe it can make someone feel to be spoken to like that.”
“Why don’t you just tell them to fuck off?”
“I shouldn’t have to,” I frowned, feeling a flash of annoyance.
“I’m sorry,” Duke held his hands up apologetically. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of shit in the first place…”
“It’s just frustrating,” I sighed. “I worked so hard to become an EMT and prove myself. Being a woman didn’t get me any shortcuts. I was held to the same standards as any of the guys I worked with. But no matter what I do, I still get treated differently. I hate that. That’s why I started going by Beck in the first place…” I trailed off and sighed.
I’m talking too much…
The frown on his face deepened, and he looked lost in thought as he blinked down at me.
“Anyways,” I said, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly through my lips. “I’m sorry. I was upset at them, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair. Those guys were just assholes… I know that not all men are like that.”
Duke was silent for a few more seconds, then finally he said, “I owe you an apology, too.”
“You do?”
“I shouldn’t have assumed that you would want my company,” he said. “You were right, I wouldn’t have approached a guy like that. I guess I just never thought about it from the other perspective before…”
I was surprised. I hadn’t expected that.
“Thanks,” I said finally. “I appreciate it.”
“You got it, bro,” Duke grinned. Then he offered me his fist.
I blinked at it, confused.
“Fist bump?” he said. Then, in a fake whisper, he hissed: “Guys usually fist bump to signify the end of a heartfelt conversation…”
“Oh,” I chuckled. “Right…” I balled my hand into a fist and pounded my knuckles against his.
After Duke left, I dragged my duffel bag over to the dresser and tugged open the zipper. Despite all of the hustle and bustle, my clothes were still neatly folded inside.
There was a yellow cardigan arranged on the very top, and I carefully lifted it out of the duffel bag and gently unfolded it. Wrapped between the sweater sleeves, there was a framed picture and a tiny glass vial of perfume.
I gripped the cool metal frame and blinked down at it. My mother’s face blinked back up at me. Our faces overlapped; her face in the photograph, and mine reflected in the thin sheet of glass.
I gently pried open the glass perfume vial. The liquid inside had turned a soft amber hue with age. It had been nearly a decade since my mother had worn this perfume on the balls of her wrists. Still, when I held the vial under my nose and inhaled, it felt like just yesterday…
“I miss you, Mom,” I said softly. My eyes stung with tears, and when I blinked a single teardrop rolled down my cheek and landed on the glass screen with a soft plop. I sighed and refolded the cardigan around the photo.
I rubbed the tears out of my eyes and turned back to the dresser. I was about to open the top drawer, but then I noticed something resting on top of the dresser: a wrinkled twenty dollar bill.
That’s the twenty I left back at the bar… I frowned, picking up the bill and feeling it between my finger and thumb, as if the smoothness of the paper would reveal how it had gotten on to the dresser.
Duke must have kept it… I realized. And then he must have left it here when I wasn’t looking…
Still clutching the twenty in my palm, I collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the blank white ceiling.
It was hard to believe that I had started the day back in Rhode Island; back in my small hometown…
Now I’m here, I thought to myself. The first day of my new life.
Truth be told, it didn’t feel all that new. Even though I did believe that those cat-callers on the street had been harmless, the experience had still hit too close to home.
And then there was Duke…
I glanced down at the twenty dollar bill again. I had meant what I said when I apologized to Duke… but that didn’t mean that I trusted him. Trust had to be earned; I had learned that lesson the hard way…
I sighed and stuck the twenty back into my short pockets, making a mental note to sneak it in when I paid Duke the first month’s rent. My eyes were scratchy with dried up tears, and I felt too exhausted to unpack. All I could do was stare up at the ceiling as my mind wandered…
Am I ever going to find somewhere that I feel safe? Or am I destined to spend my entire life running away?