Love at the Right Tempo

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Love at the Right Tempo Page 3

by Michael Mandrake


  “I might be one of them, right? You take no issue with calling me crazy.”

  “You’re the loveable kind. Some of your habits alone make you damn near certifiable. But I know that’s not why you called.”

  “To hear you insult me, no. Not at all. I get that and more when you come by for our lunch or dinner dates. No, I need your expertise.”

  “And what is it this time?”

  “Fashion. Mother wants me to dress properly for this Vermont Ball in two days. What should I wear that could accentuate my style and please her at the same time?”

  “I’m not sure anything could do that, Freddy. She probably wants you to wear a tux and shiny Burberry’s, not jeans, a tie, and Doc Martens.”

  Frederick looked down at his attire, confused. “How did you know what I was wearing?”

  “Because I know you. Plus, that’s your way of dressing up anytime we might go out somewhere, minus the neckwear of course.”

  “Fair enough, so what could I wear that won’t make me look like a penguin, and still keep my sense of style? And actually, I could find a fancier pair of Docs for this occasion. Not my brogans, I suppose.” Frederick ran his hand over his chin.

  “Well, I guess you could go for a suit that looks like denim.”

  “Really? Those exist?” Frederick couldn’t believe what his friend told him. It was definitely music to his ears.

  “Yes, they do. Ralph Lauren I believe. Let me look them up.”

  Frederick practically bounced in his seat. “Please do. As soon as you know, send me the link so I can buy it on my card. Okay?”

  “Give me a bit and I’ll call you back.”

  “All right, Deena. Thank you. As per usual you’re a life saver.”

  “Yes, I am, but I’m also your best friend,” she joked. “Later.”

  Chapter Three

  Thud. Smat!

  Thud. Smat!

  Vaughan held on to the yellow ball for a second then shrugged and threw it at the wall again. It hit it with a dull thud before bouncing back across the room and into his glove with a loud smat! He’d been off shift for two hours. It was four in the morning, and he still couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Perhaps it was the thought that the moment he closed his eyes he’d be back in Iraq, trapped in that passage with three of his men and a IED humming on the brink of changing all their lives forever. Maybe it was the pain of the nightmare he was hiding away from, the raw singe of fire burning through his gear and digging into his back. Perhaps he was hoping that if, just if, he stayed awake long enough, his guilt wouldn’t be carved into his flesh.

  Deep down, Vaughan knew those thoughts made no sense and that in less than four hours he’d have to be at Kelliani’s door all bright eyed and bushy tailed for their “date”—but none of those made him sleep.

  Thud. Smat!

  He’d thought speaking with Marietta would have helped. It didn’t.

  Thud. Smat!

  Vaughan allowed his mind to switch gears. Patrick had asked him to take over Baptiste’s role once the manager was gone. The thing was, though Vaughan sometimes disliked people—or rather stupid people—he didn’t want to lose working behind the bar. Baptiste made being a manager look so overly complicated, and Vaughan wasn’t sure he was up for the job. Then again, it went without saying that it came with a much-needed pay hike, more vacation time and more benefits. Then again, he didn’t really need more vacation time. He had no plans of getting on a plane anytime soon, and what would he stay home and do?

  Thud. Smat!

  All the questions swirling around inside his head began giving him a slight headache, so he caught the ball one final time, left it in the glove, then set them on the bedside table. He shuffled down into bed and stared up at the now dimly lit ceiling.

  The next time he drew himself from his head and checked, it was past six in the morning. Still exhausted from the night before, he pushed his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. His doctor had informed him that as proof he’d been through hell, his muscles would ache in the mornings sometimes. The man wasn’t kidding. Vaughan rubbed his lower back, then braced his palms to his knees and pushed into standing position. He massaged his back all the way into the bathroom. Deciding on a change, he cleaned up his facial hair since he hadn’t bothered to shave in a few days, ensured he had no hairs sticking out his nose, then brushed his teeth.

  After a quick shower, he dressed in a pair of black jeans, a graphic t-shirt with I am Your Brother’s Uncle’s Sister’s Cousin Twice Removed written on the front and red and black Converse. He dabbed on some aftershave, strapped his watch to his wrist and picked up his dog tags from where they were lying on the dresser. Those he strung around his neck before giving himself the once over in the mirror.

  He wandered around to find his wallet and cell then grabbed his helmet and keys. Vaughan pulled his leather jacket off the hook at the back of the door and left the apartment. His neighbor stuck his head out and winked at Vaughan.

  “Morning, Singleton.”

  “Mark.” Vaughan barely slowed down.

  “Fun morning you had, huh? I heard the action against my wall.”

  Vaughan gave him a knowing smirk and took the stairs up two flights to Kelliani’s door. Fifteen floors for him was a long way up, and first thing in the morning, the elevators were slow in responding.

  When he knocked, Kelliani opened the door dressed in black leggings with a pink top peeking out at the neck of her black leather jacket. “Good morning, Ms. Masters. I shall be your very willing escort for the day.”

  Kelliani giggled and stepped out with her very own helmet under one arm and her purse strung over the other. “Perfect! First food.”

  The two walked along the corridor until Vaughan could call the elevator by jabbing a finger into the down button.

  “Did you sleep at all?” Kelliani asked.

  “Of course not,” Vaughan said. “What a question!”

  Kelliani laughed. “Maybe you should go back and see Dr. Harrison.”

  “So he can tell me what I already know?” They arrived in the private, gated area where his motorcycle was housed. Vaughan fished his keys out, unlocked the door, and entered. He rolled the cycle out and climbed on, then extended a hand to Kelliani. “I know what’s wrong with me, Kelly. I just wish my brain would shut up about it already.”

  She accepted his hand and climbed on behind him. “Can we go to Desperado for breakfast? I’d sell my soul for one of their omelets.”

  “Sell your soul, eh?” Vaughan smirked. “How much?”

  Kelliani whacked him against the shoulder, and he obliged her with a grunt. While she got settled he slipped on his helmet, ensured it was fastened, then pushed the engine to life. She snaked her arms around his waist and held on tightly. Fortunately, she wanted to go to Desperado. That put them going the opposite direction to the traffic jam from hell. They made it to the sixties nostalgic diner in great time and took their usual seat at a corner booth.

  “V! Kelliani!” Rebecca cheered as she hurried over with her arms filled with menus, a pot of coffee, and two mugs.

  Vaughan rose and took the mugs and menus. “Morning, beautiful.” He kissed her cheek.

  “Aww, sweet talker!” Her cheeks flushed as she hugged Kelliani. “Hey, you.”

  “Hi,” Kelliani replied. “You’re doing mornings now?”

  “Yup. Christopher is at the age where I think me working days is better so I can spend some time with him in the evenings. While he’s at school, I work. When he’s home, I’m home.”

  “Makes sense,” Kelliani agreed. “He’s thirteen now, right?”

  “Yeah.” Rebecca nodded. “Wants to try out for baseball soon. Lord, where does the time go?”

  Vaughan chuckled.

  “So what do you two want for breakfast?” Rebecca asked.

  “Kelly wants to sell her soul for one of your omelets.” Vaughan laughed. “And I will take the same.”

  “You’re a dick,” Kelliani pouted
. “But he’s right.”

  “Luckily, you don’t have to sell your soul.” Rebecca grinned. “Just give us money.”

  “Sweet.” Kelliani rubbed her hands together. “Gimme, gimme!”

  Rebecca laughed while pouring them each a cup of coffee. “Coming right up!”

  “So, Patrick offered me Baptiste’s job.” Vaughan told Kellani while he dumped milk and two cubes of sugar into his coffee.

  “You said yes, right?”

  “Told him I’d think about it.”

  Kelliani eyed him. “This is a good step in the right direction for you. I’m sure you’d do a much better job than Baptiste ever could imagine doing.”

  “Yeah. I spent the whole night thinking about it.”

  “Look.” Kelliani paused to sip from her mug. “The job isn’t hard. It’s a lot but not complicated. You just have to make sure the bar keeps running smoothly at nights—something you already do anyway. Baptiste spends the whole time in the back office because he’s much better at giving orders and acting a like a wad. But, you can add so much more to the bars. The patrons already adore you.”

  Vaughan nodded. He was hoping to buy a house somewhere—something small, maybe a two bedroom. And with the hike in salary, he could use the extra as savings toward that goal. “Well, I guess you’re looking at the new bar manager for Prince’s.”

  “Woohoo!”

  Breakfast lasted longer than Vaughan thought it would. Still, they went from food to fashion and soon were on their way back to the apartment. After dropping Kelliani off at her door with a kiss on the cheek, Vaughan headed to his unit. He brought his shopping bags into the bedroom and dropped them at the foot of the bed then called Patrick to tell him that he’d be accepting the new role with the stipulation that it didn’t affect him being at the front of the house. Patrick agreed, and in fact he welcomed that new style of management.

  “We’ll discuss training later,” Patrick said. “I have to put in some paperwork for Hendo.”

  “Okay, boss. You have a good day now.”

  “You too, V.”

  But not even an hour later, Patrick called back so excited it took Vaughan a few attempts to calm him down. “What’s going on?”

  “A friend of mine, his kid is turning thirty, and he’s asked for a solid.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He wants to use Prince’s for a private birthday party next Friday night.”

  “Okay. Baptiste is still here, and Scotty can handle it with Rob’s help. What do you need from me?”

  “I need you to work that party, V,” Patrick said.

  Vaughan moaned. “Come on, Pat! That’s my night off. Scotty is more than capable.”

  “I need my best man on this,” Patrick insisted. “We both know that’s you.”

  “Pat…”

  “Rob has been calling in sick a lot lately so he won’t be here much longer. Do me this favor and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Vaughan eased back in his seat and arched a brow. “And I have the perfect way you can pay me back.”

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret this?”

  “Listen, you’re going to have me spending my night off around wealthy people. This is the least you can do for me.”

  “So you’ll do it?” Patrick asked.

  “Depends on your answer to what I’m going to propose.”

  “Okay.”

  “You told me you had a place in Dorset—Vermont, right?”

  “Yeah.” Patrick said. “What about it.”

  “Is anyone living there?”

  “No. I use it when I want to get away from Cardova. Why?”

  “I’d like a weekend there. By myself.”

  “That’s it?” Patrick asked. “I thought you were going to ask me for something a lot more—I don’t know—weird.”

  Vaughan laughed. “I’m a simple man, Patrick Henderson. Do we have a deal?”

  “Hell yeah we have a deal!” Patrick cheered. “I’ll make sure you have plenty of Hendo for the night and that I get Scotty to back you up. Kelliani already agreed to work out a special menu and cook for me that night, so you have your own crew.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Okay. I’ll fill you in when you come in tomorrow. Thanks for doing this, V.”

  Vaughan grunted and hung up. He’d been looking forward to his night off to head over to The Love Hill, sit on the hood of his car, and watch the stars. That place always gave him peace. He usually went late at nights when all the teenagers were gone home just so he could get away from people and noise.

  He sighed. “No rest for the wicked I suppose.” Vaughan rose and began gathering his dirty clothes. If he wasn’t getting Friday off anymore, he wouldn’t have time to do laundry then.

  ****

  Not much time passed before Deena called Frederick back with the details for the suit. Immediately, he clicked the link to buy and when he went to the cart, they said they couldn’t have it ready for him until next week.

  Luckily, Deena, again the life saver, said she would put in the order, pickup the suit in the morning, then grab the next plane to Vermont to give Freddy his much-needed suit and Doc Martens.

  Frederick really wasn’t sure what he would do without his best friend. Deena was more than just that. Instead, she was an ally, someone in his corner. At times, he thought it unfair to hold her back when she could have any man in the world she wanted. Frederick felt he kind of messed up things for her when it came to the romantic department because they spent so much time together. A part of him wished he could cut the cord a little so she could find a suitable partner. After all, it was him with the hang ups about having a boyfriend, not her.

  Sighing inwardly, Frederick checked his cellphone for anymore updates from his best friend. Instead, there was a text from his ex-boyfriend, Julian LaSalle, asking about the next time they’d get together to have forgive and forget sex. That was Julian’s way of saying a one night stand between friends or former lovers. Frederick had no interest and deleted it immediately. He wasn’t sure why he allowed his former flame to still be in his life, especially when the relationship ended on such bad terms.

  Thoroughly disinterested, Frederick began scrolling through his other messages. There were a couple from his manager, Delaney, who checked in to make sure he was ready to embark on this tiring trek through the United States. Another from an old acquaintance he’d met at an awards show once. He was a hotshot producer in New York, asking for Frederick to be in his next movie about a violinist with a split personality disorder. Though flattered, Frederick politely declined. He asked the guy to keep him in mind about any parts where he could play the part of an inspirational teacher instead.

  Looking at the message from the producer a little closer, Frederick noticed it was time stamped for 7/24, which was three days ago. He wasn’t sure how he missed it so he hurriedly pressed the screen and opened it. It read:

  “Frederick. I wondered if I could ask a favor of you. Let me know if you’re in Vermont from 7/28 to 8/4. Thanks so much. Many Blessings, Stu.”

  Frederick exhaled, wondering what Stuart Hanover could be asking about. Curious, he dialed Stuart’s number and waited for him to pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Stuart? This is Frederick Tremblay returning your call. I am deeply sorry I missed your text.”

  “Oh yes, Freddy, how are you?”

  Frederick shook his head. “Not Freddy, Frederick,” Frederick responded, in the nicest way, without sounding too unfriendly. Only Deena had the permission to call him that, even though Julian had also decided to do so, especially when begging for sex.

  “All right, forgive me, Frederick. And no worries about the text. I’d heard from Delaney you were taking some time off at home with your folks before getting ready for the tour.”

  “Yes I am.” Frederick grimaced at that statement. Truthfully, he hated that Delaney freely dropped his name and shared his information with any and all of his friends w
ithout his consent. Not that Frederick was involved in something exciting, but he did love his privacy.

  “Is there something you wanted to ask me? I am here in Vermont now, and I’ll be staying for the rest of the week.”

  Slightly uncomfortable, Frederick unbuttoned his jacket and ran his hand through his dirty blond locks. He tilted his head, waiting for Stuart to make his request for whatever he wanted.

  “Yeah, man. I wanted to know if you’d play my kid’s birthday party. He is a big fan of yours, and um, I was kinda hoping you’d want to play a private concert for him that evening.”

  Frederick silently groaned at the request, but he didn’t want to say no because it might make him look like a heartless jerk. He’d known Stuart to have a grown son, but on the other hand, performing for someone in his age bracket because he appreciated Frederick’s music actually made his heart swell. He hadn’t known many millennials like himself to enjoy classical music, let alone violin concertos. Why not give the guy a thrill and be his personal entertainment for the night? In the most platonic way possible of course. And since Deena would be there tomorrow evening with his suit, she’d be able to attend, too.

  Frederick smiled at the prospect and grabbed a handful of candy corn the maid, Bree, had brought out for him. Chewing his favorite treat, he swallowed and took a quick gulp of water. “Mmm. Sorry, Stuart, I got caught up in my snack. I’d love to perform for your son at his party. Where is it being held?”

  “At Prince’s in Cardova. I have a property there, and my son is a music major at University of Vermont. He would be completely thrilled to see you, and well, I’d probably be nominated father of the year.”

  Frederick grinned at that, grabbing another handful of candy. “Well, you probably are anyway because you’re paying for him to study music at a very prestigious university. It isn’t cheap to send children to colleges of any kind these days.”

  Chapter Four

  Friday came too fast.

  When Vaughan had the night off, the days were crawling by something fierce. To make matters worse, he had to report to Prince’s early to meet with Patrick to go over some last-minute details for the private party. The two of them supervised the delivery of Hendo—that arrived an hour late, which added to Vaughan’s frustration, but he bit it down.

 

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