by Alexa Land
“You know, you really don’t have to keep secrets from me, Quinn.”
“You told me piercings were ‘unwise’ and prone to infection.”
He said, “You were fifteen and wanted to pierce your navel with a sewing needle.”
Max grinned and said, “I remember that. He did it anyway, and it totally got infected.”
“Yeah, and you helped,” I said. “In fact, it was your job to disinfect the needle.”
“Why would you trust me with something like that?”
“Because you’re older than me!”
“Still bro, bad call.”
I noticed Sergei had climbed up on the main stage and started dancing, even though it was still a few minutes to eight. Of course he went straight for the featured spot and not one of the identical platforms. “Damn,” Max murmured when he followed my gaze. “I never understood the cowboy fetish until this very moment. Can you introduce me to that guy?”
“No. He’s evil.” My dad started to say something, and I cut him off with, “I don’t care if he was nice as a kid. He’s gone to the dark side.”
I was startled when someone grabbed my ass and slurred, “I knew I remembered you! Your name’s Quinn! I need to take you home again tonight, baby. You look good enough to eat!”
I growled, “You need to get off me, Warren,” as the big blond wrapped an arm around me.
“Come on baby, it’s way too late to play hard to get,” he said. “Not after last time. You put out five minutes after I met you!”
I tried to pry his arm off my chest as I yelled, “I said let go of me!” Warren just tightened his grip.
In the next instant, someone pulled him off me and snarled, “He told you to let go!” I spun around and drew in a sharp breath as Duke punched Warren in the jaw. His eyes were blazing, and his big fists were clenched like he was ready to hit him again.
Warren staggered back a few feet, and then he charged at Duke. They exchanged several vicious punches, and when I lunged forward to try to intervene, Max and my dad grabbed me and pulled me back. “Are you crazy?” Max yelled. “Both those guys are built like Optimus Prime! If you try to get in the middle of that, they’ll break you in half!”
It took all three bouncers, two bartenders, Preston the manager, and about a dozen bar patrons to break up the fight. Finally, Duke stepped back and wiped his bloody lower lip with the back of his hand. He was wearing his police uniform, and Warren pointed at his name tag and yelled, “I’m going to make sure you lose your fucking badge, Blumenthal! You threw the first punch! I’ve got a room full of witnesses! You’re fucked, asshole!”
Duke pinned him with a steely gaze and growled, “Bring it on.”
Warren flinched when Duke took a step toward him, and then he headed for the door, yelling, “You all saw it, he threw the first punch! He’s fuckin’ toast! I’m calling my lawyer!”
All around us, the crowd started to disperse. The music was off and the lights were up, as if it was quitting time. Someone was talking to me. I didn’t care about any of that. All that mattered was Duke.
He turned toward me and started to say something. In the next instant, I closed the gap between us, pulled him to my height, and kissed him passionately. He picked me up and returned the kiss with such raw intensity that I practically dissolved into his arms.
It went on for seconds, or minutes, or days. I didn’t know which. When we finally paused to catch our breath, I rested my forehead against his and stroked his short hair. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “But when I saw that guy grabbing you and heard you telling him to stop, something snapped in me. I never lose control like that. Never. But he had no right to do that to you.”
I whispered, “Thank you,” and caressed his cheek.
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be?”
“Because I acted like a caveman.”
I grinned and said, “You were defending my honor. I thought it was chivalrous.”
He put me down after a minute and murmured, “You look so damn cute.”
My eyes never left his as I touched the top of my head and told him, “I had a hat. I don’t know where it went.”
Duke picked it up from the floor, dusted it off, and put it on me, and then he smiled and said, “There. Now you’re perfect.”
I ran my fingertips over his cheekbone. It was starting to bruise. “You’re going to get in trouble for this, aren’t you?”
“Oh yeah. No question. I should probably get to the station and file a report before that jerk does. Not that it’ll help.”
“I’m sorry, Duke.”
“Why? You didn’t do anything.”
I searched his blue-green eyes as I said, “I slept with that asshole, about a month ago. That’s what made him think he could treat me like a piece of meat. If I hadn’t done that, none of this would have happened.”
Duke cupped my face between his hands and said, “That doesn’t make it your fault. Nobody gets to treat you that way, not for any reason.”
“But now you’re going to get in trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
“Really?”
“I’ll probably care tomorrow,” he said. “Right now, I’m glad I punched that scumbag.”
“What made you drop by?”
“I was on my dinner break, and I missed you. We left things on kind of a weird note this morning. Or did I imagine that? Either way, I was thinking about you all day, and I was worried that maybe you were having second thoughts or something, and I just couldn’t wait until the end of my shift to see you.”
The lights went down again, and as loud music surrounded us, I leaned in and yelled, “I’m not having second thoughts.”
We smiled at each other, and Duke kissed me gently before saying, “See you at home.” I nodded and squeezed his hand, then watched as he cut through the crowd, which parted to let him pass.
My smile faded when I turned toward my dad and my manager, who were engaged in a serious-looking conversation. Preston told me, “Come to my office. We need to talk about what just happened, and it’s too loud out here.” Then he said, “You’re welcome to join us, Doctor Takahashi.”
Max and I exchanged looks, and then I followed the two men. As soon as we left the main part of the club and the connecting door closed behind us, cutting down the noise, I said, “No offense Dad, but why are you sitting in on this?”
Preston’s brows were knit above his dark eyes, and he answered for my dad. “Your father expressed some concerns about your safety when you’re working. I tried to assure him that incidents like this one are rare and invited him to join us as a courtesy.”
I stopped walking and said, “The bouncers are great, Dad. Even if Duke hadn’t shown up when he did, they would have handled it.”
My father asked, “Just how often must they handle situations like this?”
I shrugged and said, “Occasionally patrons get drunk, and sometimes they get handsy. That guy today was more aggressive than most.”
“I’m sorry, Quinn, but I just don’t understand any of this. Why would you want to be in an environment where you’re groped and objectified?”
“It doesn’t happen that often!”
He exclaimed, “It shouldn’t happen at all! You’re turning twenty-five next month, and you know as well as I do that the careers of ballet dancers aren’t lengthy. This is your time, Quinn, and you deserve so much more than this! You worked tirelessly for two decades, honing your craft, and I know I always say this, but it’s true: you have a gift! You’re the best dancer I’ve ever seen in my life, and you don’t belong here! You should be principal dancer at a national ballet company, not squandering your talent at a place like this!”
I turned to my manager and mumbled, “Sorry. This is a great club. My dad just got the worst possible impression of it tonight.”
Preston sighed and pushed his short, dark hair back from his forehead. “This place is a shithole, Quinn. Please don’t
tell the owner I said that. I mean, it’s nice as far as nightclubs go, but it’s still just a meat market. People come here for two reasons: to get drunk and to get laid. Don’t make the same mistake I did. I took a job as a go-go boy right out of college, because it was all I could find. Over three years later, I’m still here! Did you know I graduated from UC Berkeley? Every time I write that check for my hefty student loan payment, I tell myself I should really be using that degree for something, after pouring all that time, money, and effort into it. Okay, yes, I’m a manager now instead of shaking my ass out on those platforms, but I wanted so much more for myself. Don’t you?”
I exclaimed, “Yes! Even though I actually really like it here, of course I do! That’s why I’ve been working with a start-up dance company for the last year. In just a few weeks, we’re staging our debut performance. That little, unknown company might not be good enough for my dad, but I believe in it, and I also believe that show is going to put us on the map!”
My father said, “But it’ll never reach the level of the San Francisco Ballet. With that company, you’d be performing for thousands and gaining the national recognition you deserve!”
“You have to let that go, Dad! I’m sorry I disappointed you when I turned down that job. That’s the very last thing I ever want to do! But we can’t keep having that same discussion, over and over again! Don’t you see? I didn’t feel safe at that huge ballet company! I’d always be walking on eggshells, just waiting for the moment when I screwed up and got fired. And that would absolutely happen, sooner or later!”
I swiped the back of my hand across my cheek to wipe away my tears and said, more quietly, “Don’t you get it, Dad? I’m too damaged for that job. I’m too fearful and insecure. I know you tried so hard to make me whole, but it was already too late by the time you found me. I’ll always be broken. But you know what? I’m doing okay, despite that. I found a dance troupe that makes me feel safe. I love Dare Evans like a big brother, and I trust him to take care of me. I also trust that amazing, beautiful man who showed up tonight and probably just lost his job defending me. I’m building a great life for myself! It may not be the one you wanted for me, but please Dad, can you just try to be happy for me?”
He clutched me in an embrace and said, “You’ve never disappointed me, son. Don’t you know how proud I am of you?” I nodded and buried my face in his shoulder, and he told me, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy and to live the life you deserve. I guess I had a pretty narrow definition of what that meant. I promise I’ll never bring up the San Francisco Ballet again, okay?”
I hugged him tightly and murmured, “Thanks, Dad.”
“I love you so much, Quinn.”
“I love you, too.” After a moment, we let go of each other, and I ran a finger underneath my lashes, then tried to lighten the mood by saying, “Good thing I went with the waterproof mascara.” My dad grinned at me, and then we both turned to Preston when we heard him sniff.
My manager was wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his gray dress shirt, and he said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insert myself into your family moment. But I just have to say, I’d give anything to hear my father say what yours just did, Quinn. Absolutely anything. You’re so lucky.”
I smiled at my dad and said, “I’ve always known that.”
“I’m the lucky one,” my dad said.
I hesitated for a moment, and then I blurted, “Why me, Dad? Out of the countless abused and abandoned kids you must have come across over the course of your career, why did you adopt me? Was it because I was the most broken and pathetic out of all of them, so you took pity on me?”
My father squeezed my shoulder and said, “I adopted you because you claimed a piece of my heart from the first moment I met you. That wasn’t because you were pathetic and broken, Quinn. Just the opposite. You were the strongest, bravest little boy I’d ever seen. You were a fighter! Even after everything that happened, there was this spark in you. I adopted you as much for my benefit as yours, because I needed you in my life, with that sweet smile and indomitable spirit. Everything I gave you, I got back ten-fold. You’ve filled my life with joy and so much love, Quinn, and I’m grateful every day that I get to be your dad.”
I kissed his cheek and told him, “I’m grateful every day that I get to be your son.”
Preston turned and headed down the hall. “I’m going to go call my father,” he said. “Take the night off with pay, Quinn. Go find that hot cop and thank him properly for kicking that douchebag’s ass. Damn it, I hate being single.”
Chapter Nine
I got home before Duke. Max and my dad dropped me off on their way back to Oakland, and I went upstairs and showered, then stood in front of my closet for a while and tried to pick out something cute to wear. The problem was, I only had two types of clothes: slutty or playful. There was almost nothing in between. Finally, I went with a little of both and pulled on a pair of low-slung red shorts and a cropped tank top with an illustration of Captain America making out with the Winter Soldier. I assessed my overall look in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door and decided I looked kind of plain, so I applied a little red body glitter to my shoulders and collarbones. It was in the shape of very tiny stars, and it made me smile.
Next, I turned my attention to the living room. Duke had to be worried about his job, so I wanted him to come home to someplace happy and comfortable, and I had plenty of stuff to make that happen. I threw my rainbow-striped beanbag, a soft, fluffy blanket, and all my pillows down the stairs, and then I moved the coffee table aside and built a nest in front of the couch.
I lined up an eclectic rainbow of glass candle holders on the mantel, lit them, and dimmed the lights before heading to the kitchen. After I mixed up a chocolate cake from one of Duke’s recipes and put it in the oven, I got worried and thought I might have forgotten the baking powder, so I found another recipe and made a vanilla cake. If it turned out I hadn’t actually screwed up the first one, then he’d have two different varieties to choose from, and that was a good thing.
When the second cake was in the oven alongside the first, I cleaned the kitchen and headed into the backyard with a pair of scissors. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much blooming. I heard soft music coming from the other side of the wooden fence that split the duplex’s yard down the middle and called, “Xavier? Are you outside?”
“Hi Quinn. What’re you up to?”
“I’m trying to make the house cozy for Duke. Do you have any flowers in your yard that I can borrow? And by borrow I mean have, because it’s not like you’re going to glue them back on when I’m done with them. I would just go out and buy some, but I want to be here when he gets home.”
“Actually, yeah. My lilies are in full bloom right now. Let me go grab some scissors.”
“I have some.” I passed them over the seven-foot-high fence. A minute or so later, Xavier came into view and handed me a beautiful bunch of pink and orange lilies, and I exclaimed, “Oh wow, these are amazing! Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed me the scissors and said, “I just have to ask. Are you and Duke dating? Is that why you’re giving him flowers? Feel free to tell me it’s none of my business.”
I smiled and said, “Yeah, we are.”
“That’s shocking.”
He started to tip over, but righted himself quickly, and I asked, “What are you standing on?”
“The rim of a wooden planter box. It’s a little unbalanced.” His shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back in a messy man bun, and he tossed his head to swing an escaped tendril out of his face.
“Please don’t hurt yourself.”
“That’s definitely the plan.”
“Why is it shocking that I’m going out with Duke?”
Xavier said, “I just can’t imagine two more different people.”
“We’re not all that different.” A beeping sound went off inside the house, and I said, “That’s my cake timer, I’d better go. Than
ks again for the flowers. Oh hey, are you single and gay?”
“I’m actually bisexual. Why do you ask? And please don’t tell me it’s because you want to set me up with someone. I’m not into blind dates.”
As I headed toward the house, I called, “There’s a bachelor auction for an awesome charity coming up, and you should be a part of it. You’re super cute, and you’d bring in the big bucks! It’s on the last Saturday of the month. Mark your calendar, and I’ll get you some information soon!”
“I don’t know….”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He called, “Take it as a maybe,” and I waved to him as I stepped through the back door.
*****
By the time Duke got home nearly an hour later, both rectangular cakes were frosted (and both looked like I’d gotten the recipes right, so that was a win), the flowers were arranged in a pretty vase on the coffee table, and a few board games were stacked on the lumpy couch. He paused in the doorway to the living room and took it all in, and I looked up from the center of the beanbag and said, “I hope this is okay. I wanted you to come home to some happiness, but I’ll put it all away if you don’t like it.”
“It’s fine. I’m going to change, be right back.” He seemed distracted as he headed down the hall to his bedroom.
When he returned a few minutes later, he was wearing a pair of gray gym shorts and a T-shirt with a logo of some sort, which combined the letter C and a pissed-off orca. I had no idea what that was about. He settled in beside me on the large beanbag, and I put my arms around him and asked, “What happened at the station?”
“I filled out an incident report and emailed my police chief. He ended up calling me, and we had a long talk. He has no choice but to put me on administrative leave for the next couple of weeks, while the department conducts an investigation. That’s standard procedure after something like this. A lot depends on whether the guy I punched decides to press charges, and I’ll be meeting with legal counsel. At best, I’ll get off with a reprimand. At worst…well, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. I also called Finn and gave him a heads-up. He’ll be assigned a new partner until I return.”