Secret North

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  Bar Guy diverted her attention by saying hello.

  “How are you, Rob?” she asked, sounding much more like herself.

  He swiped a cloth along the length of the glossy wooden bar. “Better for seeing you,” he drawled.

  I almost felt bad for him. If ever there was a case of unrequited affection, this was it. Charli only had eyes for Adam. She was a one-frog woman, and always had been.

  “We’re super busy here, Charli,” fluttered Noelle.

  If that was a hint to leave, Charli missed it. “Can I talk to you for a second, Bente?”

  I glanced at Noelle before replying. “Sure.” I picked up my tray of drinks. “I’ll just offload these first.”

  Charli was already walking away. “I’ll be in my office,” she called.

  “It’s Ryan’s office,” corrected Noelle, raising her voice to make sure she was heard.

  I delivered the drinks to the tipsy fairy mothers and began making my way to the office. Noelle cornered me at the doorway. “Do you know Charli?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “We’re friends.”

  “I see.” She cocked her head to the side. “So you’re her special favour,” she accused, relaxing her grip on my arm. “That’s why Ryan gave you a job.”

  I shrugged free of her. “No, no. Ryan’s my boyfriend,” I corrected. “He gave me a job because I’m his special favour.”

  I didn’t wait to see her reaction. I took off down the hall and didn’t stop until I reached Ryan’s office door.

  ***

  Ryan’s office was far less impressive than I expected. The room looked more like a storeroom. There were papers scattered all across his desk and sticky notes stuck to the edge of his computer screen.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Charli, leaning back in her chair. Perhaps I looked confused.

  “Nothing.” I closed the door. “I just expected his office to be… tidier.”

  “I don’t think he cares how tidy it is as long as it’s functional. He knows exactly where everything is. If I move one thing, he’ll know I’ve been here.” She picked up a stack of papers and put them in a drawer. Her errant smile made me laugh.

  “No wonder you drive him crazy.”

  “He told you that?” She actually sounded excited by the idea.

  “Once or twice.”

  She leaned back and drummed her fingers together like an evil professor. “Excellent.”

  I slumped in the chair opposite her as if I’d been on my feet for hours. “I’d forgotten how hardcore waitressing could be.”

  “Noelle is hardcore too,” she teased. “I’ll bet Ryan didn’t tell you that, did he?”

  “Nope. Never did.”

  “She has a huge crush on him,” she revealed. “She’s all sweetness and light when he’s around.”

  “No crush on you, though.”

  She laughed again, wickedly. “No, she doesn’t like me much.”

  I kicked off my shoes to give my feet a minute of relief. “So did you come down here to rescue me or did you want something?”

  I began to fear her answer when her smile morphed into a worried frown. “I heard about what happened yesterday. I feel horrible.” She leaned across, reached into her purse and dropped a familiar orange box down on the desk. “Ryan should never have let Bridget take your scarf. I’m really sorry.”

  I stared at the box. “You bought me a new one?”

  “It was the least I could do,” she mumbled.

  While I appreciated the gesture, I was still annoyed. Bridget was still victoriously sporting a Hermès cape. Charli must’ve picked up on my ire. “If you’d rather choose your own I’ll –”

  I sourly cut in. “What does it matter, Charli? Bridget still gets to keep mine.”

  She was shaking her head before I’d even finished speaking. “No, she doesn’t. I took it from her as soon as I found out where it came from.”

  “So why not just give it back to me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want it.” Her shoulders drooped. “For some reason, it’s covered in red lipstick.”

  I was so relieved, I felt like crying. I needed Charli as an ally, but until that point I didn’t think I had her. “I could kiss you right now,” I told her. “I was worried that you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Bente, you know me,” she grumbled. “Since when would I think giving Bridget something like that was okay?”

  She sounded so irate that I felt the need to defend Ryan. “Ryan wasn’t thinking.”

  “Bridget has superpowers where he’s concerned,” she explained. “She gets the better of him every time.”

  I couldn’t have worded it better myself, but it didn’t make the conversation any less awkward.

  Charli slid the box across the desk. “If you don’t like it, say the word.”

  I forced a smile. “I’m sure I’ll love it.” And if by chance I didn’t, I had five others to wear instead. Perhaps that’s why I made no attempt to open the box. “I should probably be going,” I said, slipping my shoes back on. “Noelle’s probably already started docking my pay.”

  Charli stood too. “I’ve got to get back as well. I’m on my lunch break.”

  I didn’t think the fast pace of life in New York necessarily agreed with Charli – or Adam for that matter. Both of them always looked a little weary. I called out as she got to the door. “Is everything okay, Charli?”

  She turned back. “Yeah, why?”

  “Just wondering.”

  25. ROSE COLOURED GLASSES

  Ryan

  I’d thrown Bente in at the deep end as far as work goes. Fairy high teas were marathon events, but I was sure she’d handle it. Whether she’d handle Noelle or not remained to be seen.

  Confident that she didn’t need me there to hold her hand, I stuck to my usual routine and stayed away. I had a different high tea planned, and it would be no less traumatic than the one at Billet-doux. I was planning to tell my parents that I’d stumbled into my first committed relationship.

  Past history told me it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, which is why I’d chosen the middle of the day to confess. Dad would be at work so I’d only have Mom to contend with.

  I never just dropped in on my parents. I called ahead to let Mom know I was coming, but my casual approach made no difference. My mother knew I had news for her.

  “Is everything alright, darling?” she asked, greeting me at the door.

  “Yes, of course.” I kissed her cheek. “Where’s Mrs Brown?”

  My mother swatted my shoulder as if brushing off invisible dirt. “She’s watching Bridget today.”

  Mrs Brown had been taking care of Décarie children for years. She was my nanny before Adam was even born, and moved with us from Marseille when we came to New York. Once we were grown, she stayed on with my parents as their housekeeper. Charli and Adam were unwilling to throw their little princess into the big bad world of day-care, so when Mrs Brown offered her services they jumped at the chance.

  “I don’t like this shirt, Ryan,” Mom complained. “It doesn’t sit properly.”

  I grinned at her. “That’s because I’m crooked, Ma.”

  Her demure giggle sounded crooked too. “I’ve made us some lunch. Come.”

  Even by Manhattan standards my childhood home was pretentious. I followed her through the lounge and into the dining room. “We’re eating in here?” It was ridiculous. The massive mahogany table sat sixteen people. Sitting at it always felt like being in a board meeting, especially when my father took charge.

  “Yes, I’d like to,” Mom replied. “But if you’d rather eat in the kitchen, we can.”

  I looked at the setting she’d prepared, and suddenly felt bad. The room was over-the-top and ostentatious, but the way she’d set one corner of the table wasn’t. I knew she’d made lunch herself. The unevenly cut plate of sandwiches gave it away.

  In some respects, my Mom was just like Charli – making her way through one way of life while tryi
ng to keep hold of another. It was a trait that never surfaced until my brother married Tinker Bell. Since then, we saw glimpses of it all the time. Mom never cooked for us as children, but as grown men we were subjected to crooked sandwiches and lopsided cakes on a regular basis.

  “No, we can eat in here,” I relented, pulling out her chair. “It looks great, Ma.”

  She sat down and thanked me. “I’m glad you’re here, darling. We don’t see enough of you.”

  “I’ve been busy lately.” I sat opposite her. “That’s why I’m here. I want to tell you about it.” There wasn’t any point easing into it. All I could do was put it all out there and wait for the fallout.

  Mom slid the plate of sandwiches toward me. “Bridget told me you’ve met a girl,” she revealed.

  I stared at her, trying to work out my next move. Bridget’s opinion of Bente wasn’t exactly favourable. I couldn’t imagine she’d said anything nice.

  “My niece has a big mouth,” I said finally.

  Mom took a quarter of a sandwich and reached for a napkin. “She’s a constant source of information for me, Ryan,” she replied. “If not for her, I’d never know anything.”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” I offered, surprising even myself. “No doubt it’s a better story than the one you got from Bridget.”

  Telling her everything didn’t take long. Most of the best details weren’t suitable for my mother’s ears.

  “I’ve always liked Bente,” said my mother. “She’s a very bright girl.”

  “She is,” I agreed.

  “Journalism at NYU, correct?”

  I nodded. “She spent the last few years working in Boston. She’s only been back in town a few weeks.”

  “And she moved straight in with you?” Her voice was emotionless, giving me no hint as to how she was taking the news. I didn’t trust her calm demeanour one bit. The last girl to steal the affections of one of her sons earned a black eye for her trouble.

  “Yes, and it’s working out great. I want you to be happy for me.”

  Mom leaned back. It was a better scowling position for her. “Why would you think I’d be anything but?”

  It was hard to take her hurt expression seriously, but I tried. “When Adam brought Charli home –”

  “Adam didn’t bring Charli home, Ryan,” she sourly cut in. “Adam brought his new wife home. How were we supposed to react to the news that our twenty-two year old son had married a girl we didn’t even know?”

  I was fairly certain that beating her up wasn’t an appropriate reaction, but I chose not to share that thought. I went in a different direction instead. “You’ve already met Bente, and I’ve no intention of marrying her.”

  “You’re not a clueless child,” she replied. “You’re a grown man and I want nothing more than for you to find someone special.”

  I dropped a crust on my plate. “I’m a clueless grown man,” I replied pathetically. “I’ve never done this before.”

  She smiled for the first time since the conversation began. “You’ve never found anyone worthy of the effort before.” The rose-coloured glasses my mother wore saved her from a lot of pain where I was concerned.

  “I’ve never stuck around long enough to find out,” I confessed. “I’m not a good guy, Mom.”

  She picked up the glass pitcher and poured two glasses of juice. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something wonderful, Ryan.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I muttered.

  “Yes, do,” she replied simply.

  ***

  I ended up staying longer than I expected, mainly because I wasn’t free to leave until the platter of sandwiches had been cleared. It was an impossible task. Mom had made enough to feed a small army. I escaped by agreeing to take some with me. “You can have them for afternoon tea,” she suggested, handing them over at the door.

  Perhaps she’d forgotten that I was on my way to work – at the restaurant I owned. I thanked her anyway, and made a vague promise of catching up with her again later in the week. It wasn’t enough. Intent on pinning me down to a more concrete arrangement, she ordered me to bring Bente to the house for dinner.

  “Friday night,” she instructed. “I’ll invite Adam and the girls too. It will be lovely to have the whole family together.”

  “Okay,” I replied unenthusiastically. “We’ll be here.”

  She started swatting at my shirt again. “And get rid of this shirt, darling. It’s truly a terrible cut.”

  ***

  Walking into Billet-doux post-fairy high tea is something that’s done with trepidation. Some days the restaurant makes it through unscathed. Today wasn’t one of them.

  Noelle was rushing around, barking squeaky orders at a frazzled-looking waiter trailing behind her.

  “That’s four so far,” she barked in her little Chihuahua voice. “And here’s number five.” She tapped the back of one of the white dining chairs. The waiter carried it away in the direction of the storeroom. Finally she spotted me at the door. “Oh, Ryan.” She breezed toward me. “The dry-cleaning bill will be huge. A few of the chairs have been stained.” She grabbed my arm. I wanted to shrug her away, but didn’t.

  “We have spares,” I told her. “Just get the others cleaned.”

  It wasn’t as if it was the first time I’d been left with a cleaning bill after a fairy stampede. It didn’t even annoy me any more. The bar sales alone more than made up for it.

  Noelle dropped her hold on me. “I’m already on to it,” she replied. “You know me, super efficient.”

  I pretended not to notice the wink that accompanied her comment and moved on to more important things, namely my newest employee who was setting tables at the back of the room. “Will you excuse me, Noelle?” I didn’t hang around to hear her reply. I was already making my way toward Bente.

  “Miss Denison,” I called.

  She turned and granted me her trademark red-lipped smile.

  “Mr Décarie,” she crooned.

  In a ploy to stop myself grabbing her and kissing her all over, I folded my arms. “How was your first day?”

  She glanced past me, undoubtedly at Noelle. “Interesting.”

  “Do you think you’ll be back tomorrow?”

  She dropped a handful of cutlery on the table and took a tiny step toward me. “Unless I get a better offer,” she hinted in a whisper.

  I dropped my head and chuckled at the floor, acutely aware that Noelle was burning a hole in the back of my head with her eyes. “I have a few things in mind,” I murmured.

  “I’ll bet you do,” she replied. “But you’ll have to tell me about them later. I’m going home in a minute.”

  “Pity,” I said wistfully. “I was just going to clear the restaurant so you could set the tables in private. I haven’t heard you sing in a long while.”

  Bente picked up the cutlery and continued laying the table. “I’m sure you know where the fire alarm is.”

  As tempting as her offer was, I behaved like a responsible adult. “I’ve got work to do.”

  She turned to me. “Well, that sucks. My working day is done and yours is just starting.”

  “I’ll make sure it’s a short day,” I promised. “Then we can have a long night.”

  26. SOCIAL EXPERIMENT

  Bente

  The first thing I wanted to do when I got home was take a long bath. It had been a long time since I’d spent all day waiting on tables. I’d missed certain parts of it, but not the aching feet.

  I started stripping off my clothes as I walked down the hall, stopping dead in my tracks when I reached the doorway to the bedroom.

  My dresser was missing. We’d either been burgled by a robber with no sense of style or Ryan had made good on his promise of sending it to Adam for restoration.

  There was just no thinking time where he was concerned. Everything had to be done at warp speed. I shook my head at the absurdity and continued to the bathroom.

  ***

  I’
m not as good a chef as Ryan, but I tried. Not even I could mess up a basic salad. I was expecting him home at any minute and was looking forward to having him all to myself, so the buzz of the intercom annoyed me.

  I pressed the speaker and answered curtly. “Yes?”

  “I’m here to see Ryan, please.” Of course she was. Who else would she be here to see?

  I leaned closer to the speaker than necessary and smashed my finger down on the button. “He’s not here, and even if he was, he wouldn’t be interested.”

  There was a long pause. “You’re exceptionally rude,” she told me. “I think you’re rude.”

  I was rude, perhaps unfairly so, but I wasn’t about to apologise. “Look, come back later,” I said wearily. “He’ll be home in an hour.” I couldn’t believe I’d made the offer. I was practically inviting trouble.

  “I will,” she replied. “Thanks.”

  Intent on torturing myself, I ran to the window to see if I could spot her walking away. The steady flow of pedestrian traffic on the street below made it impossible to pick her out in the crowd. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. No doubt I’d get a perfect view of her when she returned later.

  ***

  I never mentioned Ryan’s caller to him when he arrived home, slightly optimistic that she wouldn’t come back. We’d almost made it through dinner when my hopes were dashed. Ryan groaned out loud at the sound of the intercom.

  “I’ll get it.”

  I wasn’t going to argue. There was no way I was going to open the door to whore number two.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “Hi, it’s me.”

  Ryan obviously knew who she was. He smiled as he replied. “Hey, come on up.”

  I set my fork down to stop myself stabbing him with it. That was the only move I made. I sat at the counter, waiting for her to knock.

  Ryan rubbed salt into my invisible wounds by greeting her at the door with a big hug. “Where have you been?” he asked. “I’ve almost missed you.”

  “I know, I know,” she replied, stepping into the room. “I’ve been so busy lately.”