CHAPTER FIVE
DECKER
If a girl turns up five or ten minutes late on a date, it's counted as on time, in my experience. Nevertheless, I thought I'd been stood up when Karen hadn't shown up two minutes after the agreed time.
If I knew one thing about her, she was punctual.
Every day she'd turned up early for work. She'd worked for my brothers for two weeks, we'd met outside almost every day, and finally she agreed to go out with me.
It wasn't mere coincidence that we'd run into each other outside my building. By anticipating her arrival, I'd managed to steal those extra minutes for myself. We'd talk and laugh, and I'd ask her out, and she'd say no. By the time it had happened three or four times she must have known I was waiting for her to arrive. After all, I knew when she was due because my brothers told me when they asked me to make myself scarce. It became our routine.
I checked my cellphone, again, to see if there was a message. Three minutes late. As I stared at the screen, I heard her.
"Decker. I'm sorry. Have you been here long?" Karen sounded a little breathless.
"No, not at all. Don't worry about it. you're on time." I held up my cell to indicate the time.
"You're sweet." She smiled and pushed loose strands of hair from her face. "Everything happened as I was setting off, but I'm sure you don't need the boring details."
"You can make up some interesting ones and tell me over a drink." I placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the entrance of The Ugly Duckling.
She'd finally agreed to meet me for a drink, "just one," she'd said when we discussed the recent opening of the new bar. By all accounts, it was a fairytale themed venue. It sounded intriguing and fun. Neither of us had been there, so we set a date, and we met outside.
Once inside, we looked around not at the décor but searching for a couple of free seats. "Of course, it's packed." I should have realized it would be. Too loud, no seats: not the ideal place for a first date. I didn't think she saw it as a date. She'd been quite specific, and we were going for a friendly drink. "What would you like to drink?" I asked as we reached the bar.
For a moment, she looked stunned as if she wasn't prepared for the question. Perhaps she didn't drink alcohol. I braced myself for a discussion about buying our own.
"They have a cocktail menu. Do you mind?" She reached out between a couple of people to pick up the menu from the bar.
I planned on having a beer, but I'm open to suggestions, I waggled my eyebrows. "I like mixing it up. And I've got a taste for things that are a little sweet and spicy." I winked.
She winked back. "Cocktails then." Karen stood close beside me not just because of the crowd but so we could both see the menu.
I inhaled her scent, a hint of citrus from either her shampoo or subtle perfume. I wanted to get closer and bury my nose in her hair.
"I like the sound of a Moscow Mule; I think I'll go for that."
"A vodka lady, huh?"
"Not exactly. I'm not a big drinker; it's the spicy ginger beer that appeals. Plus, if you add lime juice to anything it becomes irresistible," She smiled warmly. That smile sold it.
"Lime juice, huh? I'll have to remember that." I turned to place the order at the bar, and two nearby stools became available, so we perched.
"How have my brothers been treating you?" I asked as I settled up with the bartender.
"They've been perfect gentlemen and certainly made it easy for me." She took hold of her drink, had a small sip, and licked her lips. "It's good."
"Cheers. Here's to easy work." I held up my glass, and we clinked them together. "What's so difficult about having your photo taken?"
Her cheeks turned pink. "Because of the types of photos. You've seen them, right?"
"No. I haven't, actually." I knew the sort of thing they want to do. I never expected them to show me and they didn’t.
"Oh. I thought you'd seen them." She looked surprised.
"If they were doing a course that involved lots of writing, I wouldn’t expect them to show me their notes. And I don't show them all my film clips, just the final finished product if they want to see it. And I suspect more often they don't."
Her head leaned to one side, and her hair rested on her shoulder. "Um, I guess."
"And as these photographs are personal and feature a real person." I pointed at her. "Of course they aren't going to show them around to just anyone."
"You're not anyone. You're their brother, one of the triplets."
"Well, that's true. We live together, but we don't share everything."
"True." She giggled. "Girlfriends, I bet you don't share girlfriends."
She had me there. I was slow to comment, and her eyes widened with surprise. I starred at her mouth and watched her tongue trace a path around her plump pink lips.
"You do share girlfriends between the three of you. Tell me more."
"Between the three of us, no. Simon is... well, let's say he's different. He's looking for his one true love. Not a one-night stand he can share with his bros."
"Oh, he's sweet." She leaned closer. "And you and Cedric?"
"Now, you've got me." I took a big swig of the Moscow mule, wishing I'd ordered four so that we'd have the next one ready. "We're ordinary brothers who share perfectly well with each other. We always have even as kids. Even though we were five brothers, more often than not just me and Cedric played together."
"Five! Wow. That must've been a handful for your mom."
"Yeah, I guess we may have been a bit much. She split up with Dad about ten years ago. They sort of shared custody, which..." meant paying to keep us occupied at a private school and extracurricular activities and summer camps. Having the wealthiest parents wasn't always something I wanted to tell people when they hardly knew me.
"Which?"
"Which turned out okay."
Sometimes it helped to get laid if a girl knew where I lived and the estimated wealth of my parents. That information attracted a particular type of girl, but I suspected it wouldn't endear me to Karen.
More often, I didn't want to be judged by my family. And I had an inkling Karen wouldn't be seduced by money and a privileged background. She already knew where I lived and yet it had taken persistence to get her to come out for one drink. "Do you want another of these?" I held up the glass.
She looked at her half-full glass and nodded at me with a smile before raising it to her lips. She didn't offer to buy the next round of drinks, which surprised me because I had her down as a feisty, independent modern woman, but I was happy to pay.
KAREN
At the end of each session modeling for the photographers, I always who suggested I return the next day. I needed the money sooner rather than spread out over weeks. The fact that it meant seeing the triplets again was a bonus.
They saw me almost everyday, times fitting around their college commitments.
I assumed my employers, Cedric and Simon, knew their brother had been meeting me outside the apartment block before each session, none of us ever mentioned it. Decker never referred to the modeling. Instead, he'd always have funny stories to tell about things that had happened to him.
And his interest in me was flattering. It gave me a buzz not least because he seemed so out of my league. Tall, fit, and roguishly handsome with his tattoos and slashed denim, he was several years younger than me, and had a gym fit body.
He'd told me about his interest in film making, it's not something I knew anything about but he made it sound interesting as he talked with passion about films he'd seen and the sort he'd like to make.
The first time he asked me out I took it as a joke, he couldn't be serious. What would a guy like that see in a woman like me? A slightly overweight, older woman, who was homeless and broke. Not that he knew about my precarious living situation at that point.
Then I wondered if he'd seen the photographs and assumed I was a cheap, easy lay.
God knows, Decker turned me on. All three of the brothers did. But the wanton woman I showed the photographers, she wasn't me. Well, a bit of me, but just the most secret inner fantasy me. I'd acted a fantasy for the camera. Secretly, I enjoyed it, but it was a job, and I didn't expect to see any of the brothers again after the work ended.
I couldn't go on a date with a guy who thought I was like that in real life.
If I could forget about what I did in those modeling sessions, and if Decker hadn't seen those photographs, well he was charming and irresistible. Every time we met, he'd ask me on a date.
One drink wouldn't hurt, I decided in the end.
Despite his roguish appearance, Decker was an attentive gentleman, and I felt at ease in his presence. With a drink inside me, I poured out my entire story.
I told him I was homeless.
"I'm not literally sleeping on the streets. I'm staying with a friend, and it's not a permanent arrangement. If I outstay my welcome with Stacey, I've got a few other friends I can call on, but I aim to get another job so I can afford to pay my way in my own place."
He looked shaken. "Are you saying those few hours modeling provides your only income right now?"
"Yes. That's all I've got coming in. I spent the last few days just knocking on doors, and I had an interview today but haven't heard back yet."
He stared at me as if he couldn't comprehend my situation.. "What sort of job are you looking for?"
"I'm a librarian. That's what I trained to do. My ex-boyfriend was also my boss, and for a while, after we split up, we continued living and working together while we sorted out stuff, you know. It was all very grown up and amicable."
"Couldn't you transfer to a different library?"
"I could've done, and avoided him on a day-to-day basis. But he's very senior in the organization so he'd still be above me. Anyway, I resigned, worked my notice, and had a new job line up. I'd still be working as a librarian and archivist but in a private corporation instead of a public library. However, it fell through at the last minute, which meant I couldn't afford to rent a new place."
Decker looked agog as he followed my story. "So what happened?" He raised his glass to his full lips.
Was it too much to hope I'd get to kiss those lips?
I'd had a Bridget Jones afternoon trying to find just the right combination of flattering clothes and underwear that might look good if he invited me back to his place. I'd thought about it, and why not? Damn it. If the night went well, then I'd go to his home because I couldn't invite him to mine.
I took a sip of my refreshing drink before continuing. "My ex didn't throw me out with my clothes in garbage bags. It wasn't so dramatic. You couldn't make a film out of it."
"I should hope not. About the garbage bags. But you can make a film out of anything, you might be surprised."
I had a feeling he could surprise me.
"The lease was up on the place we rented together. We had to move out. We weren't a couple anymore, so my problems were no longer his. He had a place lined up for himself without me. And here I am living, like orphaned Harry Potter, in a cupboard under the stair in my friend's home. I'm not exactly destitute; I have savings and a good education. I've just hit a rough patch and modeling for your brothers is my only income until I can get something else. So I need to get something else quickly before my saving run out."
"And your family? Would they help out if you were in trouble?"
"I'm sure I could turn to them for a free meal and a night on the couch, but I left home a long time ago. I don't even know my new step dad. Mom went off and had a sudden secret Vegas wedding just last week and only told me about it after she'd done it. That should give you some idea that we're not all that close."
Decker raised his eyebrows at that news. "A Vegas wedding, huh?"
"Yeah, can you imagine? I expect I'll go over and see the photos when she gets back from honeymoon. I don't know whether they made a film of it."
"There should always be someone to make a film to document everything, every aspect of life, in my opinion." He chuckled.
I raised my eyebrows at this. "What, in the bedroom, consummating the marriage and everything?"
He almost chocked on his drink. "Yes, why not? Honest but tasteful," he managed to say while laughing. He rubbed his hand across his jaw. "Let's get back to your story. You didn't come to work for my brothers because you want a career in modeling or because you want a little part-time extra money."
"Far from it. I need the money. I need a full-time job."
He bit his lip. "I know a place that needs staff right now, it might not be quite what you wanted but..." He shook his head.
"It's a job, I'll do anything." My face flushed when the words left my mouth. He couldn't mean anything illegal. "Not anything, I mean most things."
He chuckled. "Don't worry. It's nothing awful. It's an arts and crafts shop. I have a part-time job there. I know they need more staff, and I can more or less guarantee you'll get the job if I introduce you. I don't like to sound big-headed."
"That would be fantastic. I'd be happy to take a shop job. How soon can you put in that word and if you give me the address I'll turn up tomorrow to bug the manager."
Decker chuckled. "You've got the right idea. Working in a shop has taught me that the people who turn up in person and bug the manager are the ones who get hired. The manager's called Frank, and I'll call him first thing in the morning before the shop opens."
"So what were your reservations? Just for a moment, you looked as if you thought telling me about the art shop was a bad idea." And then the thought dawned on me. "Is it because we'll be co-workers?"