by Lily Harlem
“Oh yes, this one is terrible.” I pointed at my garish orange bag. “I’ll switch everything over straightaway.”
She smiled and then her attention was caught by another customer, a man with dark, greasy hair who was roughly unzipping and zipping a bag. It looked like the guy who’d undressed me with his eyes earlier.
Dustin was still talking to Raymond, a small crowd of children had gathered around him and I saw that he had a bag of jellied sweets that he was handing out to them.
“Two each,” he was saying as he stooped over. “And if you all just take two I’ll buy a bag of those pineapple cubes and you can have two of them each as well.”
A squeal of delight went up and I smiled. He was like the Pied Piper, kids were just drawn to him despite his giant size and gruff voice.
Guessing he’d be a while, I maneuvered my way out of the market and set my new and old bag on a stone wall overlooking the harbor. I’d switch my wallet and phone to my new bag and fold the old one into it to take home. The new one was much nicer, it had an unusual diamond pattern on the side that was shaped sort of like sideways fish.
Suddenly a rush of air pummeled into me and then a sharp jab hit between my shoulder blades. The heat and solidity of another person’s body whacking into mine hard had me crying out. I lurched forward, tried to grab the wall but missed, and instead crumpled onto the ground, my breath knocked from me.
“Oi!” A deep shout rang through the air, breaking through the sound of my rushing pulse in my ears and the drag of air surging back into my lungs.
As a blur of orange flicked past me, I twisted and saw the shady guy from the purse stall pelting away. My purse was falling to the floor but he had my wallet in his hand.
There was another burst of energy at my side and I realized it was Dustin who’d called out. He must have seen the guy wallop into me, and now he was tearing forward, his feet pounding, his arms thumping.
I pushed onto my hands and knees, head spinning and watched, in what seemed like slow motion, as Dustin caught up with the guy in the mouth of an alley.
Damn, he’d run fast.
Dustin grabbed the thinner man’s arm, flung him ’round as though he were a ragdoll and shoved him up against the wall.
“Gina, Gina, oh sweet mother of mercy, are you okay?” Raymond was next to me, his hand on my shoulder. “Oh, this is terrible.”
“I’m fine, really,” I said, watching the chaos unfold.
Dustin had his thick forearm beneath the thief’s neck, pushing his chin up. His captive’s feet were lifting off the ground and he was clawing at Dustin’s forearms.
A loud whistle piercing the air told me one of the island’s few policemen was on scene.
Thank goodness.
“Get off,” the captured man half gasped, half shouted. Even at a distance I could sense the panic in his voice. He really hadn’t expected an Olympic athlete to be in the area. Not only that, one who was twice his size.
“Give me that, scumbag,” Dustin sneered, plucking my wallet from his hand. “Were you never fucking taught that stealing is wrong?”
“Leave me the hell alone. Get off.”
Dustin kind of growled again, that noise that made my belly flip and my thighs clench.
“Shit,” the guy squeaked, “it’s just a wallet, fuck…”
Dustin had increased the pressure. The man’s cheeks were bright red, his feet were a good few inches off the floor now and he was tugging violently at Dustin’s t-shirt.
Dustin didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ll take it from here, sir.” An officer ran up to the alley, handcuffs at the ready, his voice loud and commanding. “I saw it all. Please step back.”
Dustin released the criminal as quickly as he’d caught him, but he didn’t step away, instead he stayed looming over the man who was clutching his neck and gasping for air.
“Gina, you are hurt?” Raymond asked. “Your knees. Look.”
I glanced down as I straightened. Sure enough, my right knee was grazed and a fat globule of blood was trickling down my shin.
“Come, sit on the wall. I will get you something to clean it with.”
I allowed Raymond to help me up. The lady from the purse stall rushed over.
“Oh dear, that was terrible. I saw him before and I knew he was bad. He had those eyes,” she said, winding her hands together. “Eyes that hold many bad deeds.”
“I thought the same thing.” I swiped my palms together to rid them of grit, bent my leg up onto the wall and thought how dramatic the blood looked seeping toward my foot.
But I knew I’d gotten away lucky. A shove in the back was preferable to a knife in the back.
A small crowd had gathered now to watch the policeman handcuff the thief. I could still see Dustin. He was nodding and speaking to the policeman. I saw him hold up the wallet and then point my way.
“Here you are, here you are,” Raymond said, rushing back with a wet cloth. “Quick, you must stop that terrible bleeding before you run out of blood.”
“I’ll live, it’s superficial,” I said, “but really, go and mind your stalls, you two. Dustin is coming now, he’ll help me. I’ll be okay.”
As I said it I realized how glad I was that he had been there and that he’d chased down the man who’d pushed me and stolen from me. That he’d shown everyone, including the children in the market, that stealing was wrong and wouldn’t be tolerated.
He was coming toward me now with a grim look on his face but a softness in his eyes.
Raymond and the other stall owner left me, obviously anxious about their unmanned wares.
I began to shake, not a lot, just a little. I pressed the wet cloth to my knee and tried to suppress a wince.
“You all right?” Dustin asked a little breathlessly. “Well, no you’re not.” He glanced over his shoulder at the cop who was marching his prisoner away. “Bastard, I should have fucking strangled him. That way he’d never do it again.”
“It’s just a graze,” I said, dabbing at more blood and watching it soak onto the wet cloth. “It was the fright more than anything.”
“Yeah, that must have been a real shock getting pushed to the ground like that. I saw him rush up to you, he was running pretty fast.” He handed me my wallet. “Yours.”
“Thanks.” I juddered in a breath. Willed my eyes not to fill with tears, but they were, the sting behind my eyeballs told me it was inevitable. I thought I was tough, but the shock of the attack was rattling through me like a mini earthquake.
“You’re shaking,” he said, taking the cloth from me and cupping my hands in one of his. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?”
He swept his gaze over me, but not like he had on the beach or even in the locker room. This was a functional check for mangled limbs and bleeding arteries.
“No, no I don’t think so.” A tear broke free and I swiped at it with my shoulder as I huddled over, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I’m fine. I just want to go back to the villa.” As I’d said villa my voice broke on a sob.
“Ah shit, don’t cry,” he said, “You’re all right and I got your wallet back.”
“I know, and I’m grateful, really I am, it’s just…”
“What?”
“I’ve been coming here since I could only just walk and nothing like that has ever happened. It’s always so lovely.”
He shook his head, squeezed my hands. “There’ll always be bad people in the world, that’s why we have to make the most of the good ones.” He frowned. “I saw him follow you from the purse stall. I had a gut feeling then he was thinking of doing something he shouldn’t. I’d have been quicker if I’d followed him then rather than waiting.”
“How could you have known?”
He blew out his cheeks, sighed and shook his head. He seemed cross with himself despite having saved the day.
“Mister, mister, you dropped your sweets.” A small boy stood in front of us holding a torn paper bag containing dusty yellow candy. He
wore no shoes and his t- shirt was ripped on the lower seam. “I picked them up for you. All of them.”
Dustin’s face softened. “That was kind of you.” He took the sweets, studied them. “But I don’t think you can eat these now, they’re all dirty, they’ll give you belly ache.” He plucked out his wallet. “Here, go and buy a new bag of these sweets, but you have to promise me one thing.”
The little boy nodded, his dark eyes so wide I could see all the whites.
“You have to share,” he said, “with all the other kids at the market. Can you do that?”
“Yes, mister, I can do that. I promise.” He nodded earnestly.
Dustin smiled. “Good, here you go. Now you’re in charge. I’m trusting you, share nicely.” He handed over several ten dollar bills.
“But brush your teeth afterward,” I said, sniffing.
“I will, miss, I will, and I’m sorry about your knee.”
I smiled and dabbed the cloth on the broken skin. “It’ll be better by tomorrow, no harm done.”
The boy dashed off and a policeman came over to make sure I was okay and take my details. He told me I could press charges but they would be holding their prisoner in custody for some time as he was a known troublemaker on the island and wanted for several other crimes.
“Can you walk back or should we get a cab?” Dustin asked after the policeman had bade us goodbye.
“Cabs are in short supply around here,” I said, standing. Keeping one hand on the wall, I tested the weight through my leg. It was okay, it would no doubt ache tomorrow, but I could walk back to the villa.
Dustin hovered next to me, hands out as though I might topple over.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Really. And it’s not bleeding anymore.” I turned, gathered up my purses, my sunglasses and my wallet and shoved them away safe in my new bag. “Come on, I could do with a drink.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “We’ll have a drink here first, before you walk back.”
“And what if I don’t agree?” Though actually it did sound like a good idea.
“I’ll carry you.” He tugged on his bottom lip, elongating that slim scar as if holding in a grin.
“You are joking.”
“Nope, not joking.” He pointed to a harborside bar that was lined with azalea plants in full flower. “A drink there, any drink, your choice. Otherwise you go over my shoulder for the whole way back.”
“That sounds like possibly the most uncomfortable way to travel ever. So yes, I’ll agree to the drink.”
“Wise choice.” His eyes kind of glinted, but only for a second because then he covered them with his black shades and hid them from my view.
There was no doubt in my mind that if I hadn’t agreed, I would have been over my goaltender’s shoulder for the entire mile back to the villa.
A glass of wine was definitely the better option.
Chapter Seven
“Here you go, sweet cheeks, one white wine, a glass of sparkling water and some salty nuts.”
“Would you stop calling me sweet cheeks?” I tucked the stained white cloth into my new bag and stretched my sore leg onto the adjacent seat.
Dustin sat in front of me, then spent a few seconds folding his long legs beneath the table and settling himself on the small wrought iron chair. He then propped his elbows on a bright-pink placemat and popped open the bag of nuts.
“I’m sorry, it’s not very appropriate, is it?” He grinned and threw some cashews into his mouth. “Sweet cheeks, that is.”
He managed to look contrite and unapologetic all at the same time. For once it didn’t annoy me, it just seemed to enhance his looks, add dimension to his personality and make me melt a little for him.
I smiled and reached for the water. “No, not considering the circumstances it isn’t.” Had he finally come to his senses that calling his boss—the woman who signed on the dotted line each month for his wages—“sweet cheeks” was not acceptable? I doubted it. Not really. He was going easy on me, considering what had just happened. That was kind of him I guessed.
“He’s a lucky guy,” Dustin said, taking a sip of beer.
A thin line of foam sat in the stubble above his top lip. I studied it, not having to imagine too hard what it would be like to run my tongue over that part of his anatomy. Not that I ever would again.
“Who is?” I asked. “Lucky?”
“This Henri.”
I couldn’t really tell because of his shades, but I got the feeling his attention was straying to my chest. It was the way his head had dipped a little. “Henri?”
“Yeah.” He took off his shades and set them on the table between us. Now I knew he was looking at my chest.
I took a sip of wine. More than a sip. A gulp. I was sure the sea breeze was making my nipples tight and he’d probably be able to determine their outline. But I wasn’t going to look down and see for myself. That would make me even more self-conscious.
“I’m sure he’d have done the exact same thing as me if he’d been here,” Dustin said, looking at my face again. “Probably quicker because he’d have been at your side. Maybe even stopped him from pushing you over or targeting you in the first place.”
“Henri?” I asked again. How the hell did Dustin know about my ex?
“Yeah, he’s in Paris, right?”
“He is. That’s where he lives.”
“Gonna be awkward that, you two being married but living on different continents.” He shook his head. “Can’t see how that would work.”
“No, me neither, but—?”
Married?
“I guess,” he interrupted, “you could employ someone to oversee the team. Someone with the right experience.” He pressed his lips together. “Someone with business qualifications and hockey know-how.”
I held up my palm. “Stop.” I’d had enough of his waffle.
“What?”
“For one, I’m running the show now and apart from anything else, the budget won’t stretch to a hotshot executive to do what I’m doing for a very small salary, and second, how the hell do you know about Henri, and…married? What gave you that idea?”
He frowned. “I heard you talking to him at the airport. Sounded like a damn intense conversation.” He paused and huffed. “And call me old-fashioned, but when I proposed to my ex-wife, I didn’t do it over the phone, I got down on one knee and presented a ring.” He pointed to my left hand. “What’s he gonna do? Mail you a diamond?”
My head was spinning. I tried to think back to the call I’d had with Henri earlier that day. He’d told me he was getting married and invited me to the wedding. Had Dustin really got the wrong end of the stick and presumed that was Henri proposing to me?
It seemed he had.
“Henri is a great guy,” I said.
“I’m sure he is.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. “And I’m real sorry your time with your father went wrong. I’m sure you were hoping to break the happy news to him.”
“Happy news? There is no happy news.”
He took a drink, set the glass back on the pink mat and fiddled with the threads that he wore on his right wrist. “So why are you marrying him if it’s not happy?”
“I’m not marrying him.”
“You’re not?” He raised his eyebrows and appeared genuinely surprised.
“No. Henri was a fling, a bit of fun while I was in Paris. I adore him, he’s a really genuine person, but I have no intention of becoming his wife.”
“But you said you loved him and…”
“I do love him, but as a friend, and he was calling to tell me he was marrying someone else.” I laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “A girl from the café we used to go to for brunch. I always knew she liked him. Seems they’ve had a whirlwind romance and now they’re all set to tie the knot.”
“Well, fuck me. I really got that wrong, didn’t I?” He frowned and shook his head.
“Just a bit.” I shrugged and took a si
p of my wine.
“You’re not even with him?”
“Nope. Free as a bird.” I flicked at a small black bug that had landed on my arm. “So you’re stuck with me. I won’t be buying a one-way ticket to Paris any time soon. My home and life are at the arena now.”
He wiped his fingers over his lips, almost as if he were holding words in.
I glanced at his eyes, their dark depths gave nothing away. But I could guess what was there. He didn’t want me. Had been thrilled when he thought I was about to get a French husband and disappear. That would solve all of his damn problems, wouldn’t it? No wonder his mood had improved since he’d overheard that private conversation.
That just went to show what he got for eavesdropping, didn’t it?
I quickly drank my glass of water. “I don’t want the wine,” I said, pushing it away. “I just want to go back.”
A sudden sadness had come over me, wrapping around me like a sticky web the breeze couldn’t blow away. Dustin only liked me when he thought I was a temporary arrangement. Had only been nice because he thought I was heading out of his life soon. Out of America soon.
“You sure you’re up to it?” he asked. “The walk?”
“Yes.” I pulled my purse over my shoulder and stood. I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face anymore, at the bitter disappointment written there.
He downed the last of his beer and dropped a few dollar bills on the table. “Okay. Let’s go.”
I stomped ahead of Dustin down by the shoreline, ignoring the sting on my knee and the ache in my chest. It wasn’t as if I cared what Dustin thought of me. I didn’t.
Plus, I had a job to do, a big job, and I couldn’t be distracted by annoying players who, each hour, earned nearly as much as they weighed. Not to mention my father needed me. He’d been so desperately sick, hanging on to life at one point. I had to do this for him and make it work. It was the least a good daughter could do after all he’d provided me with over the years, including my education.
My throat tightened and my eyes stung. I marched along, staring at the horizon and the approaching sign that declared our stretch of beach as private property and trespassers would be prosecuted.