Inky

by J. B. Hartnett

  “I have no reason to be afraid. I think I may have finally let go of that fear. That all had to do with my mom and I haven’t seen her in years, so there’s no reason to let her have any power over me now. Tonight I’m gonna prove to myself that I’ve come a long way. And I want to give Lisa and Evan my blessing.” I smirked. I couldn’t fucking wait.

  “You’re kinda freaking me out right now with your calm demeanor, Ink.”

  “I’m not gonna pull a gun on them or anything. However, I did find something I know will devastate Evan and of course, Lisa will suffer indirectly. If she hadn’t called me that name, I would’ve let them walk away. But no, she just had to be a bitch about it.”

  “I like this side of you.” Gus interjected. “You’re a firecracker when you’re angry.” He had been watching our exchange silently until that point.

  “I’m gonna take that as a compliment, Gus. Thank you. Okay, let’s go. I have ants in my pants.”

  After two Coronas and two shots of tequila, my liquid courage readied me for my big karaoke debut. This would be the most people I’d sing in front of, ever. The bar was full. The list to sing was full. All our raffle tickets had been sold for the night. What should have sent me into a full blown panic attack was empowering me. It also helped that I couldn’t wait to see the look on Evan’s face for my big reveal. I even bought a new bra and matching panties for the occasion.

  “Hey, Ink. I’m gonna take a fifteen, come out the back with me a minute.” Aimes wasn’t simply requesting my company, she had something to say.

  “What is it? I know you aren’t out here for the fresh air. What is it?” I smiled at her.

  “Just to be clear, you’re not trying to get Evan back, are you?”

  “I don’t even have to think about that. No way. Sure I’m hurt by the whole thing but really, what was I thinking? I loved him, I really did. But it was what I thought love was. I’ll be honest, Aimes. The ten minutes I spent in Cole’s arms at the Harbor were more passionate than the countless hours I’ve spent with Evan. And Lisa…she called me Annie, Aimes. She fucking called me Annie.” She put her hand on mine and gave me a knowing squeeze.

  “Well, you’ve got five minutes until show time. I gotta say, I can’t wait. Are you nervous?”

  “Not one damn bit. I feel like I could sprout wings and fly around the place. Must be the adrenaline.”

  “Or the booze.” We laughed together, a laughter that only you and your best friend can share. A joke only the two of you will ever get and onlookers will be envious that they don’t have a friendship like that. It was wonderful and I was happy Lisa wasn’t a part of it. It was just like that thing Evan and I never had.

  “Is Lisa being all weird to you? It’s good you have Jesus between you.”

  “Nah, she knows better, I think. Well, since I ripped her hair out of her skull.” Again we laughed and drew attention from a few smokers outside. “I better get back in there. Evan’s camping at a table to the side.”

  “Oh, I scoped him out already. Don’t worry about that.”

  I came back in behind Aimes, following her to her end of the bar. I was pumped but, oddly, not one bit nervous. I’d expected the closer it got to show-time, the more nervous I would feel but I didn’t feel nervous. I had a purpose for this performance I didn’t want to blow. I had to remain strong.

  ***

  The barstool to the left of me had suddenly become occupied and I felt a tingling at the closeness of the stranger; a familiarity. I knew without even looking that it had to be Cole. He did seem to make it a habit of showing up on Friday night for karaoke although I was positive he had no intention of singing. I wouldn’t, couldn’t acknowledge him or I might lose my nerve.

  “Folks, next up is one of our own... Inky! Come on up here, Ink!” The whistles and applause of support were great. I was smiling so wide my cheeks started to ache. I heard Aimes yell out, “Yea, Ink! Woohoo!!”

  I checked the buttons of my coat, making sure I would be able to untie the loose knot of the belt and the music began. I’d been listening to the Blondie song on YouTube, I knew how long it lasted and choreographed all my moves.

  “This one goes out to Evan and Lisa... no hard feelings, guys.” I let my shoulders move back and forth to the rhythm, held the mic, channeling my own inner rock goddess and, by the time the guitar solo and bridge had passed, I had untied the belt and let it dangle at my sides. As all the “Getcha, getcha, getchas” escaped me with as much female power I could muster, I undid one button at a time with a seductive strip tease and let the coat drop to the floor, revealing my ultimate tool of revenge... Evan’s beloved concert t-shirt. I Bedazzled the fuck out of it. I put big white ruffles on the sleeves, rhinestones around the band logo, and large silk flowers at the top of one shoulder. It was beautiful, and even better was the priceless look on Evan’s face.

  When the outro of the song was complete, I grabbed the mic and spoke.

  “Here you go, Evan. I thought maybe your new girlfriend would like your autographed Rush concert shirt.” I slipped it over my head to reveal a solid black bra with a red ribbon detail and threw the shirt off the small stage, straight into Evan’s arms. Grabbing my coat, I didn’t even bother to put it back on. I jumped off the stage and walked toward the bar, yelling behind me, “I hope she doesn’t give you herpes.” Lisa didn’t really have herpes, not that I knew of anyway. I hoped she didn’t because that meant I probably had it too but no one was thinking that. They were thinking she had the herps.

  I wasn’t surprised that Lisa had met me back at the bar, abandoning her station. “You’re a fucking bitch! How dare you!” She seethed.

  All I could do was chuckle, “Give me a shot of tequila, Jesus. Thanks.” I turned my attention to her, well aware that once again there was a crowd gathered around us. “I warned you, Lisa. You shouldn’t have called me Annie. You knew it was the lowest blow you could deal and you did it anyway. Why? I have no idea. You already had what you wanted but you wanted to kick me while I was down. Thanks, Jesus.” I took the little lime and rubbed it across my thumb followed by a sprinkling of salt, ready to take my shot. All I was waiting for was Lisa’s retort. Like a storm gathering momentum, she exploded.

  “Look at you sitting there all high and mighty. Did you forget the one thing that makes you into the cheap weakling you are? Did you suddenly forget what everyone else gets to see now?” I stared straight ahead to the bottles behind the bar, beyond them and into my reflection. Up until that point, I thought I looked pretty hot. “You forgot that fucking map of all the times you were someone’s whore, Annie.” Evan even winced at that.

  I felt my skin bristle at her words and hadn’t realized, until that moment, that my entire back was on display for the bar to see. I’d been so caught up in my little plan, I forgot just how exposed I was. I couldn’t care less about sitting there in my bra and jeans, but very rarely did I expose my entire back like that. My tattoo wasn’t small. It ran across my shoulder blades, down my spine and onto my lower back. For the moment I had to forget all that. It was clear to me that Lisa had been hurt by Evan, so much so that she was willing to throw away our friendship for a chance at his affection and to hurt me as much as possible in the process. I should have felt sorry for her, knowing what I know now, but that wasn’t the emotion that came to me.

  I took my shot of tequila and turned my body around to look at her. She was steaming. Her body language was positioned to take me on. She almost towered over me but I had something she didn’t; rage. I had years and years of fights I never got to have, punches I never got to throw, bruises I was forced to cover up and hide, and now she was going to be the recipient of all my anger.

  “You shouldn’t have called me Annie.” When my fisted hand reached her jaw, she absolutely didn’t see it coming. I held my stance, ready for her to come back at me. I waited for her to collect herself as a circle formed around us, reminding me of fights during lunch period in high school. She grabbed her face in shock, turning
bright red and lunged at me but I met her in the middle and we collided. I couldn’t believe no one was stopping us, probably too stunned to actually react but it was over as quickly as it began.

  I felt arms wrap around me, lifting me from the ground and pulling me away toward the front door. Lisa had Rusty on one arm and Evan on the other and someone was trying to get karaoke going again. Outside, I heard a car alarm chirp and unlock. Once I was settled inside and the door closed behind me, I stared straight ahead, trying to get my head around what had happened. I’m not sure how much time passed but the driver’s door opened and my purse and coat were set at my feet. A hand reached across me and pulled the seat belt over me, clicking it in place.

  “You might want to cover up. The windows are tinted, but you can still see through them.” Cole said.

  I looked down to discover that at some point during our scuffle, Lisa had ripped my bra. My right breast was completely exposed. I looked over to see an amused grin on Cole’s face, “I don’t mind the view, but I figured you might.”

  The car pulled away from the curb, “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to my house. We’ll swing by your place so you can get whatever you need.”

  “You’re pretty confident. What makes you think I want to spend the night with you? I don’t even know you.” I said the words, and I meant them... mostly, but I was also a bit side-tracked by his tanned skin, strong jaw, full lips, hazel eyes, hair that threatened to fall onto his brow…

  “You know me” he interrupted my dreamy train of thought, “you can trust me and I won’t take no for an answer.”

  When we arrived at my house, he turned off the car, came to my door and opened it.

  “How very chivalrous of you. Thanks.”

  “Give me your keys.” When we walked in, he entered the alarm code.

  “How do you know the code?” I asked, surprised.

  “Aimes told me.”

  “Right. I’ll just be a few minutes. Make yourself at home.”

  “Take your time, Anika.”

  I went into my bedroom, my new bedroom and called the bar.

  “Rusty’s.” I heard Aimes shout into the phone over what must’ve been a rush of people after I had left.

  “Aimes? What the fuck?”

  “Dude, I’m slammed. It’s just me and Jesus. You made Lisa cry. Oh my God, you made her cry! I didn’t even know she had tears. Everyone’s all pumped now, I think that did wonders for sales – that’ll be twelve fifty, thanks – I can’t believe you bedazzled Evan’s shirt and, Inky, it was like you were possessed or something! That was fuckin’ Girls Gone Wild. I wish I had it on video…”

  “Aimes, I’m supposedly going home with Cole, with your blessing?”

  “Inky, go, have a good time, get laid. Just have a little vacation. He has your bag and your phone. If you have any problems, call us and we’ll come and get you. See what it is about this guy, have mindless sex, whatever, just try to have some fun and don’t start overanalyzing this and thinking you don’t want him around. I love you, but that guy keeps coming up in conversation and he keeps showing up like your knight in shining armor. Just, go.” She hung up. Just like that, she had thrown me to the, well, Cole Carlyle isn’t exactly a wolf.

  Looking through my laundry basket, I was thankful I’d washed and folded my clothes. I grabbed a denim skirt and undies, a matching grey tank and panty set that I liked to sleep in and flannel pajama pants. I found a new black bra which left very little to the imagination but figured, hey, what the hell, just in case. I decided to go with a simple baby doll tee from the Chris Isaak concert I saw last year and topped it off with a U.C. L.A. hoodie. I didn’t know anyone who went there, but the color matched my Converse. I put my toothbrush in my bag along with some chap-stick and my sleepwear and left to go find Cole. I almost thought he’d changed his mind and left when he wasn’t waiting in the kitchen or living room. The only place I hadn’t looked was my studio.

  I took a deep breath and sighed. Looking through the doorway, his back was to me. He wore black dress slacks, expertly tailored, black dress shoes, a thick leather belt, almost not matching the ensemble. His hands were in his pockets, lifting his suit jacket just enough that I could see that he must work out. A lot. Then I remembered he’d carried me to the car with ease. He wasn’t a huge man, not like Gus, but he was lean and strong. I wondered what he’d look like without a shirt on. I wondered if he had a Jacuzzi tub. Snapping myself out of my daydream, I cleared my throat, “I’m ready to go…against my better judgment.”

  He didn’t turn around. For what felt like years he just stood there and studied my painting. He tilted his head to the right, as if he was trying a new angle. Finally, he spoke staring straight ahead. “How do you do this? What gets this out of you? Does it just happen?” I never imagined I’d be discussing my creative process with him but he was a paying customer and he truly seemed to have an interest in my work.

  “Hang on a minute.” I went to the table that held my pallet, three huge containers of brushes, a jar of murky water, an empty wine glass covered in paint, a small stereo equally covered in paint and my iPod. I put my hands on his hips and moved him to the center of the painting and handed him the headphones, “Here. Watch.” I sat down behind him on my big green love seat and pressed play. As I watched him, I also thought that when the time came, maybe this is how I could convince Olaf Evist to choose a song to inspire a commission.

  By the end of the song, I watched his shoulders slump and his hands fall to his sides. He reached out his right hand and pulled me from the couch, “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 18

  When we pulled into the gated community, I felt like an imposter. “What exactly is it you do, Cole?”

  “Can we not talk about that tonight? You can ask me anything you want tomorrow but right now, can we just not talk about that?”

  “If you’re a musician, you can take me home right now.”

  He chuckle escaped him before he said, “No, I’m not a musician, Anika.”

  “Why do you call me that?” I noticed he always used my proper name. I didn’t mind necessarily, but it did have a sort of emphasis about it. At least the way he said it did.

  “It’s your name isn’t it?”

  “You’re kind of a smart ass, aren’t ya?”

  “We’re here.” Another automatic gate opened, this one appeared to be heavy solid wood. Tiny lights illuminated the driveway and we came to a stop in front of a garage. “I’ll get your door.”

  Taking my hand in his, he led me down a curved stone path, lined with small copper lamps and perfectly manicured, soft grass. It looked like fairies lived there, magical and lush. Trees above us formed a canopy over the path until we reached the two front doors made of the same dark wood as the front gate.

  “Welcome to my home.” The first thing I noticed was his use of nature throughout the house – the part I could see anyway. The floors were a light stained wood... not pine; oak maybe. The walls in the entrance area a creamy color, like vanilla ice cream. Beyond that, down two landings were five large windows looking out at the ocean.

  I was actually in my dream house. Not the one I always admired from main beach but similar…and better.

  “Oh my. Oh.” All the air went out of me.

  “Do you want something to drink? I was gonna have a beer. You like Corona, right?”

  “Yep.” I went straight to the windows and spied two lounge chairs and wow – a pool! He handed me the beer and clinked it.

  “Cheers. To an excellent performance and to the most awesome chick/bar brawl I’ve ever seen. Here... I brought you an ice pack for your hand.” We both took a swig and I laid the ice pack across my hand. I hadn’t even noticed it hurt until he gave it to me. I knew he could feel my discomfort so I let him do all the talking. “It’s a heated patio if you get cold. Do you want to sit out there?”

  “Sure.” He slid a large panel to the side, opening the entire room to the sea. �
�Wow, this is an artist’s paradise. How long have you lived here?” He led me toward a chaise.

  “Here, have a seat. Do you want a throw?” I shook my head no. “After my ex asked me to move out. I’d always wanted to live by the beach. She hated it. That should’ve been my first clue. Who hates the beach?”

  “I knew a girl in school that hated The Beatles. I could never work that one out either. I don’t like everything they sang, but come on?”

  “That is weird.” He shook his head. “So you and Evan are no longer ‘you and Evan’?”

  “How’d you guess?” I smiled sarcastically.

  “What was the whole thing with the shirt?”

  “Have you ever heard of the band, Rush?”

  Say no, say no, say no.

  “Eighties, right?”

  Damn. At least he wasn’t a die-hard fan.

  “That right there, your reaction, proves you’re not a musician. Thank the Lord. I actually like them, but Evan worshiped them. I know their names, I know all sorts of strange little factoids about them. They are incredible musicians but, anyway, he got to meet the band, go backstage and sit and talk with the bass player who also happens to be the singer and keyboard player. Anyway, he would go on and on about him. I decided to wear that shirt one day, all sexy like and surprise him. I could see he was having this internal struggle... sex or my autographed shirt? Sex? Or my autographed shirt?”

  “Which one did he choose?”

  “Not the shirt.” I took another sip, smiling, thankful our conversation was flowing easily.

  “What happened?”

  “You mean between me and Evan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He did me a huge favor, that’s what happened.” He just stared at me, “Oh alright, but if I tell you mine, you have to tell me yours.”

  “Deal.” He nodded in agreement.

  “I kinda have,” I sighed, “baggage. Evan never seemed to mind that I was a little closed off. He flirted with me all the time. I dated casually and each time things started to get serious with a guy, he would start telling me how he would do this differently and that differently. Then I started dating Gerry who’s one if the nicest guys you’d ever meet. He’s sweet. Too sweet for me; he knew I wasn’t forthcoming with him about my past so I always kept him at a distance. I was never really myself. Evan used to come into the bar during the day when he wasn’t up in L.A. auditioning for a project – he’s a bass player, a studio musician if you didn’t get that before.”