by Reber, Tina
943 S. BRIDGE ST, Apt 12C
BROOKLYN, NY
She was thirty-one years old and a long way from home. Now I at least had more information to give to Tammy’s brother. I hoped I could get him to do a background search on this whacko.
I made the drink that she requested and tried to be as cordial as possible when I set it in front of her. I purposely mixed her drink light; no sense fueling her psychosis with extra alcohol.
Marie came in at five to start her shift. She made a face when she saw that most of the patrons in the pub were female. Cory was already trying to charm three of the girls at the bar. They seemed to like him too. Cory was a good-looking guy - tall, well-kept, nice arms, and a flirtatious smile. I hoped he was a good distraction.
Marie held her purse up in the air and shook her keys, indicating she was going to lock up her belongings in the office. I completely understood her reasons; the bar was starting to look like the setting for a Stalkers Anonymous meeting. Sure enough, about a dozen or so young girls came into the bar. The trail of tramps didn’t end. All of the fans that were waiting outside were now inside my pub.
“What the fu..!” Marie gasped. “Where the hell did they all come from?”
“The street, where else!” I breathed back.
“Taryn!” She shook her head at me. “This is effed up! What are we going to do?”
I had no idea what to say to her. I was also worried about serving minors accidentally. We only had this size of a crowd on weekends, and life was manageable when Pete carded everyone before they stepped foot into the bar.
“They all need to be carded and labeled somehow,” I said. “Cory, card everyone before you serve them. I’m going to see if I still have those paper wristbands.”
I hurried to the office and dug through my dad’s old desk. I found the pack of wristbands but the glue was so old on them they didn’t stick together anymore. In another drawer I found a stamp pad and a date stamper. That would have to do.
I went table by table, checking driver's licenses. I was glad that I did because there were a few that were underage. They were requested to leave immediately. It felt good to kick a few of his fans out.
Women packed my bar; it was indescribable. All ages, shapes, and sizes forced their way in. For what? For the hopes of getting a glimpse of my boyfriend? The man who loves me with all his heart? It reminded me of the time his car was surrounded out in L.A. by screaming, hysterical fans. My mood instantly morphed from stressed to pissed.
Marie approached a table of four women who were just sitting in anticipation. “If you’re not going to order something you have to leave!” I heard her tell them. “No, water is not an order. We serve alcohol here. This is a bar.”
She slapped her serving tray on top of the bar. I could see she was just as pissed as I was. “This is freaking ridiculous, Taryn!”
“I know. I don’t know what to do,” I muttered in defeat. “I don’t know what I can do, besides stand up on this bar and tell them all that he’s not here.”
I really wanted to tell them all that he was mine and they were delusional, crazy bitches; maybe end my rant with an “everyone get the hell out,” but I couldn’t.
I was so busy carding people that I completely lost track of the time. My pocket started singing to me.
“Hi,” I breathed out, running for cover in the kitchen.
“Hey, everything all right?” Ryan asked.
“No. My bar is inundated with female fans. I don’t know what to do.” I felt like a panic attack was coming on. “If they see you,” I gasped. It was getting harder to breathe.
“Shit, I was afraid of this. Okay, just stay calm. I’ll fix this. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Take care of your business. Stay out in the bar. Things will be a little hectic, but once they get what they came for they’ll leave.” He was in business mode.
I nervously paced behind the bar, mixing drink orders to occupy my brain. I had no idea what he was talking about, and I had just about my fill of dirty looks for one night. I knew what each one of them were thinking - why her? What was so special about me that caught his attention? I even heard a few of them say that I wasn’t pretty enough to be his girlfriend. I felt like the neighbor’s dog just snuck into my house and peed all over my carpets just for spite.
A black sedan pulled up out front and parked. I saw Ryan’s bodyguard open his car door and they walked to the front door of the pub. The minute Ryan’s foot hit the carpeting the women started screaming. My shoulders instantly hunched up and I covered my ears with my hands to muffle the sounds. Cameras were clicking everywhere. Girls even stood up on some of my chairs.
Ryan smiled and waved to the adoring fans while his guardian ushered him safely into the poolroom. I noticed one of the paparazzi also followed them. Just then my cell phone played my favorite tune.
“I didn’t know what else to do. Don’t be mad,” he whispered. “I love you.”
“Ladies, ladies,” his bodyguard, Mike, called out. “Mr. Christensen will be signing autographs and providing photo opportunities for one hour. One photo per guest only please.”
“It’s brilliant! I love you too!” I answered him.
In an instant, a line was formed. Actually the line started forming before Mike even spoke. I looked at my watch, it was almost seven. I filled a large glass with soda and took it over to the poolroom.
“Ms. Mitchell,” Mike greeted me with a partial smile. He had his bulky arms folded across his chest to look even more intimidating.
“Hi Mike! Would you please give this to him for me? Can I get you something to drink too?”
Mike shook his head.
Marie, Cory, and I stood behind the bar, just watching. I noticed how none of the other paparazzi entered my bar, but some other menace did - a reporter.
A well-dressed lady sat at my bar, smiling at me. I glanced down the bar to notice that gap-toothed psycho fan was anxiously standing in line.
“Ms. Mitchell, Sheila Moore from the Celeb Entertainment Network. I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions?” She flashed her shiny, white teeth at me.
“I have no comment,” I answered quickly. “No interviews.”
“Just one question, Honey,” she goaded me. There was only one person on this planet that called me “Honey” and she was not it.
“No,” I said firmly. “Please leave now.”
“You know that attitude is not very good for his career!” She smiled her fake smile at me. I wasn’t falling for her tricks. Like answering her probing questions would be good for his career.
She eyed Marie and I could see the little hamster on the wheel in her brain churn another revolution.
“No, you cannot interview any of my employees either,” I said sharply. “Now I would prefer if you left.” Her eye daggers were confirmation enough of her unhappiness. I really didn’t care. I barely spoke to my closest confidants about my relationship; she was crazy to think I’d spill any details to her.
My attention was diverted when new customers came into the pub. Thankfully it was some of my regular male customers. They were obviously happy seeing the large selection of women. The guys quickly punched numbers into their cell phones; it was the modern day version of sending smoke signals to the other tribesmen.
Ryan’s little plan seemed to be working. As the women got their meet and greet satisfied, they exited right out the door. The crowd was actually thinning. Marie nodded her head in response to seeing some of the girls leave.
It irked me to hear some of the comments these women were making about Ryan. Most were gushing about their encounter with him; how hot he was, how they’d like to “do him” as they put it.
Two young women sat at the bar in front of me, talking about his hair and his dreamy eyes, and how they can’t believe how lucky they got tonight to be at the right place at the right time.
I was washing a few dirty glasses when one of the girls expresse
d her next observation out loud. She presumed since Ryan was here without Suzanne that they must not be a couple like everyone thought. And since he was out prowling the streets of Seaport (and slumming with the locals), he must be looking for a good time. She felt her odds just increased to getting him. She even came up with a few lines to let him know he could have her. She decided that her “want to come back to my place and have sex?” line was the winner.
A few weeks ago statements like that would have drifted in one ear and right out the other, not affecting me in the slightest bit. But now I felt the burn rip right through my heart. The red tailed beast called Anger welled in me. These women talked about him like he was a thing, an object, a possession to be had. And the thing they desired was the man that I loved.
Marie studied my facial expression for two seconds before concluding that I was almost at the end of my rope.
“Go take a walk. Cory and I have this.” She steered me along by my shoulders.
“I’m going to see how he’s doing, then I’m going up to have dinner with him. I’ll be back a little later.” I couldn’t hide the anger any longer.
He had just about ten minutes left until his hour of people pleasing was over, and there were still about fifteen women in line. Mike smiled at me and moved slightly so I could look in on Ryan. Two girls were chatting up a storm with him, tossing their hair, smiling, and flirting. It made me sick. Ryan was standing there with his arms folded across his chest, trying to be nice. When he saw me he grinned, ran his finger down his nose, and scratched his chin. It made me laugh.
Two girls to go until curly-haired, gap-toothed Angelica would get her turn. She was definitely looking me up and down, just like the rest of them. I adjusted my shirt, ran my hands over my butt and smirked. Look at that ladies, it’s his favorite part.
Ryan was getting anxious to get this over with; he waved at Mike to let the next one in. Two girls went together to meet him. They were beside themselves – it was like meeting God to them.
Ryan moved away from the table when the two girls left. He stretched and walked over to where I stood.
“Hey you!” He smiled and privately drifted his fingers over mine.
“Hey back!”
He yawned. “I am so done with this. How many more are left?”
I roughly counted. “Twelve. Just finish with them; maybe they’ll leave you alone now.”
He wrinkled his nose and winced. “I’m so hungry. I’m getting a headache.”
“Then make it quick! Dinner is ready when you are.” I tugged on the bottom of his shirt.
Angelica was getting nervous in line; she was shifting her weight from foot to foot. Ryan saw she was next and whispered something into his bodyguard’s ear. Mike unfortunately let Angelica pass. She clutched her little purse in her hand, making me really nervous. I watched her every move, ready to pounce if she tried anything.
She said a few gushing words to Ryan and then started to open her purse. I saw the edge of something silver in her hand; adrenaline coursed through my veins. I was just about to push Mike aside and tackle her when she pulled out a silver camera. Ryan posed with her quickly; now I understood why the photographer was invited along. She looked at the camera and asked for one more picture to be taken but the photographer told her no and moved her along.
Angelica looked distraught when she walked out of the poolroom. I thought she was going to stay inside the bar, so it surprised me when she left the building. Good riddance, psycho.
Several new girls got in line and now the new total was closer to twenty.
“Mike, he’s had enough,” I whispered. “Two more and that’s it. He has a headache and he has dinner waiting.”
“Okay, Taryn.” He turned to the ladies. “You two and then we are done. No more.”
I watched as the bad news was whispered down the line. Quite a few of them left out loud “awes” but I didn’t care. He served his fans enough today. Ryan patted Mike’s shoulder when he was finished. “Thanks man, I owe you one!”
“No problem, Ryan. I’ll see you at six. Go get some rest.”
Ryan smiled and waved briefly to the ladies who were still waiting in line; their cameras clicked like crazy. He turned his back to the waiting fans and quickly darted through our stairwell door.
Chapter 19 - Entrances
“I love you for getting me real soda,” Ryan said enthusiastically. The can hissed when he cracked the pull-tab. “So how was your day, Honey?”
I turned and shoved a taco chip in his mouth, stifling his sarcasm. He smiled and cracked me on the butt.
“I got a birthday card for your mom. It’s on the table.”
He grabbed another chip and dipped it in the salsa. “Oh, cool! I completely forgot to get her one.” He read the card quietly to himself. “Awe! She’s going to get all mushy on me after she reads this.”
Ryan wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind.
“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing me on the neck.
I turned in his arms and slid my hands over his shoulders; I was waiting for my proper hello and was relieved I didn’t have to wait a second longer. He tasted salty and tangy, just like taco chips. It made me hungrier but not for food.
“Thank you for defusing your legion of followers,” I said warmly. “I really appreciate what you did, and I was surprised to see how many of them left once they got a chance to meet you.”
He crunched into his taco. “Mmm! Just like I imagined it would taste. I was so hungry for this; I was thinking about it all day.” He had apparently moved on mentally from his previous business mode.
“I got you a present today.” I pulled my purse off of the back of my chair. “Here.”
“Keys?” he asked with a mouthful of food, and then it dawned on him what they were.
“Back kitchen door is silver and the gold one is the apartment door. Now you have your own set.” I tried to hide my smile as I bit into my dinner.
He quickly leaned over the table and gave me a kiss. “Thanks! So what else did you do today?” he asked.
“My bank teller wanted to know if I’m really dating you,” I snickered.
He looked surprised. “What did you say?”
“I told her that we weren’t dating; I said we’re just having unbelievably incredible hot sex with each other instead.” I figured that would make him laugh.
“You did not say that!”
“Oh and I also told her how sweet and considerate you are and how you always make sure I have a mind-blowing orgasm first. I thought that would make her day.”
He smiled at me while he chewed.
“She didn’t seem too happy when I dropped my pants to show her your autograph. I could tell by the way she slapped my deposit receipt down and told me to ‘have a nice day’ through her teeth that she wasn’t pleased.”
“Now I know you’re full of shit!”
I smiled back at him. “She told me she could keep a secret and I told her so could I,” I corrected. “And how was your day, Honey?”
“I killed Susanne several times today. I thought after I stabbed her mentally with a big knife that she’d die, but that bitch kept on getting back up! So I got the pick axe and slammed it into her forehead, you know, right here?” He pointed. “But she wouldn’t stay down!”
“Babe, did you not learn anything from me? Did you try the poison?”
“Poison?” he scoffed. “Takes too long and I wasn’t in the mood to wait. I put real silver bullets in my gun. She took twelve in the chest.” He shoved the last bite of his taco into his mouth.
“And? Did that do it finally?”
“I wish! I don’t believe there is any way to kill the anti-Christ,” he laughed.
After we were finished eating, he helped me clean up the kitchen and put food away. I was glad that he didn’t expect me to be his servant or housekeeper. He took a few extra minutes to inspect the inside of the refrigerator, checking out all the items I gathered at the store.
“Look in the pantry, too. I hope I got the right chocolate chip cookies. You weren’t specific.”
“Ah, look at this!” he said excitedly. “Just like home!” Ryan ripped open the cookie bag, shoving one in his mouth and palming one for later. “Did you have enough money?”
“Your contribution was about half,” I muttered. I started washing the dishes.
“Liar!” he breathed in my ear. Ryan turned the sink water on for me so I could rinse a plate.
I smiled. He was right, I was fibbing. I spent almost four hundred today getting all this stuff.
“Maybe we can bang out the finer details later? Come to some mutual agreement?” I wondered aloud.
“You want to negotiate the terms of our contract?”
“Contract?” I questioned. “I didn’t realize I was under contract.”
“Well of course you are. I’ve already signed on the dotted line back here.” He brushed my rear with his long fingers. “I’m locked in. It’s an iron-clad contract, by the way.”
“Question? Is there a no competition clause written in this contract?”
“Absolutely! There is no competition either. None.” He took the wet plate from my hand to dry it.
“I’m not sure. There was quite a line forming today. All of them so willing to negotiate.”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed on me. “Honey, in all seriousness, tell me. Did that, what happened tonight, bother you? Tell me the truth!”
“No,” I answered immediately. “The fan appreciation didn’t bother me at all. What bothered me was some of the comments that were made. I mean I think it’s public knowledge why you’re holding court in my pub and why they all knew they could find you here. But when these girls are sitting on the other side of my bar, talking about wanting to have sex with you right in front of me, it’s a little aggravating. It’s sort of like a slap in the face,” I admitted. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I understand. I’d feel the same way if a bunch of guys were talking about you that way. But since Seaside, I’ve come to realize that this world is full of cruel, ruthless people – all ready to knock you down the minute you show the slightest bit of weakness.”