“Of course. What, now?”
“Now is always the best time for anything, don’t you think?”
She showed me where to put my stuff, then she gave me a little steel grey apron with the Purdy’s logo stitched on, and then I started cleaning the tables to make them shine. Suddenly I had a fresh start. And it was all thanks to one amazingly handsome guy with smiling blue eyes.
I worked all the way from lunchtime through until five pm when the trade started picking up again. Some of the trade were local workers seeking a quick beer before going home, and some were students who lived away from campus. By now I had picked up some of the ways Purdy liked her customer service, and I didn’t mind. I was good at it. I knew how to give a smile and how to get a smile, from my years spent bagging dresses at the fashion stores back home. I liked this new busier life already.
By six pm, Purdy had changed the tunes to Motown and turned up the volume. Pretty soon the place was bustling – much busier than I expected for a Tuesday night and I didn’t mind. The money was good, and so far the tips had matched it. I was going to buy my way out of my college debt in no time if every day was like this.
I think I must have recognised his silhouette first of all. The light by the front door made all the new customers look like shadows as they came in, but as soon as I saw this particular shadow, my heart started up again and my stomach burned. I was right, it was Brandon Lynes. He walked in wearing another lumberjack shirt – red check this time – and he waved right at me. He had two of his people following in his wake, but these were guys, with no Amanda in sight. I was relieved and I was buzzing, but I was serving tables and couldn’t run to him like I wanted to. The other waitress, Isabelle, got to seat Brandon and his friends. They ordered three bottles of Desperado with a slice of lime in the top. “Hey, Isabelle, can I take those drinks?”
Isabelle was not yet my friend. Trust had to be earned at work and favours like I was asking were not a good sign from a new colleague, but I had to ask. “Are you crazy?”
“You can keep all the tip, all of it. You do the rest of the order, but I just want to say hello.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. Down girl. Fine, you take the drinks.”
She shook her head and left the tray for me to carry. Purdy was behind the bar talking to Reggie. I hoped she hadn’t heard my request. I picked up the tray and headed for Brandon. They were laughing and talking guy stuff, the usual kind of high-fiving rubbish, but as soon as I got near the table Brandon looked at and his face changed. He smiled. “Three Desperadoes. But I would never have guessed,” I said.
Brandon laughed, the other two looked at me then each other.
“You’re funny.”
“Glad someone thinks so. Listen, I wanted to say thanks.”
Brandon stood away from the table.
“Look, there’s no need for thanks. I just made a phone call to Reggie and that was it. You did the rest, obviously.”
“You didn’t speak to Purdy?”
“Err, no. I know Purdy, but Reggie owns the place, so I spoke to him. He’s the one I know best.”
“Right.” I didn’t care much about the detail. I was too busy getting lost in his eyes, my gaze flicking from one beautiful blue eye to the other.
“Hey guys, I’m just going to catch a word with Ashley. Back in a minute.”
He stepped away from the table to the edge of the eating area, near the restroom doors. He leaned against the wall, and I followed suit. We were pretty close up to one another now. I could smell his aftershave. I think there was citrus and bergamot in it. I could see the stubble breaking through on his jaw.
“I’m glad this is working out for you, Ashley. I heard about your financial drama. No one deserves to lose their chance at life because of helping somebody else.”
“That’s what I thought and then you came along.”
“Penny told me all about it. She knows that I can…um.”
“Influence people. Just how do you do that, Brandon?”
“Oh, I just know people. That’s all. I talk to them.”
“Yeah? You talk to people and they do what you want them to?”
“Sometimes.”
I smiled and let me eyes linger on his. “Yeah. I think I can believe that.”
He reached up and touched my hair. I think my temperature started rising right there and then. I could feel a pleasant tingle in my body and I wanted more. He was intoxicating.
“You are so pretty, Ashley.”
“Gee. You must like girls in waitress outfits.”
“The outfit is fine, but the girl inside it is something else.”
He was talking me into a state here. I crossed my legs, acted coy and stepped back just a little. Not enough to ward him off, but just enough to regain my composure. I wanted him to kiss me there and then, and I think he wanted to kiss me as well. But I was equally worried I was going to need some new underwear at the rate he was going.
“Excuse me!” I heard the voice, but didn’t look around. Isabelle could handle that. Then it came louder than ever on my shoulder, and Brandon looked up, startled.
“I said, excuse me!”
It was Purdy. She looked at Brandon with hard eyed smoothed out with a smile, then directed the whole thing full force in my direction.
“Purdy!”
“Yes, Ashley, it’s me. Now, do my eyes deceive me or are you chatting up customers and neglecting the tasks you want paying for? Is that what I am seeing?”
“Um.”
“Because if I am seeing that, I’d better never see that again. Not today, and not in the next month if you want to keep your job. Is that understood? Now, stop flirting with this young man and get back to your tables right now.”
I wasted a second of awkward embarrassment and regret in front of Brandon but was consoled because Brandon looked like a guilty school boy too.
“Right now, Ashley!”
Purdy pointed the finger and I walked back to the tables. Isabelle gave me a hard look too. I guess I had been longer than I knew. Damn. I had been so close to a kiss with Brandon, but I didn’t even manage to get a date. But inside, in spite of my telling off, I was burning so very bright, and for the rest of the night I was high on thoughts of my forthcoming kiss, followed by imagining Brandon’s naked body against mine…
Six
Every time he tried to focus on the lecture his mind would drift Ashley’s way. It wasn’t so obvious in the Lecture Hall, because of the number of people between them. There she was - bottom left of the lecture audience in the second row. When he looked away he could still see her in his view. It was like trying to ignore a piece of shining gold. Normally he would love to hear about William Blake and his visions of angels, but today he couldn’t muster more than a passing interest. He’d made hardly any notes at all. He was becoming the kind of student he couldn’t stand and it was only week 2 of the first semester.
Things got more complicated in the seminar. There were maybe ten of them stuffed into a room no bigger than a small office, and the room was lined with books and posters, and stuffed with piles of abandoned raggedy old papers. This was a Professor’s office, and it doubled as a seminar room. It felt a little like they were children being gathered around their father’s ankles to be regaled with tales and legends. And it was something like that, until Professor Cantor would put one of them in the spot and ask their opinion on his monologue. When Professor Cantor’s spotlight descended on you all the other students present turned into literary critics worthy of the Sunday papers. And in this huddled office, Ashley Pearson sat immediately in front of him, her slim body angled towards the Professor, her soft face propped up on her hand, a notebook open on her lap untouched. Today Ashley was wearing stonewashed jeans with a rip at the knee, an embroidered blouse with birds and bows lined across her chest. These simple clothes looked wonderful on her. Then there was her hair. Ashley had a blonde haircut which seemed to be shorter at the back than at the front, where it cascaded untamed e
ither side of her wonderful face. She had eyes which shone with life, green and brown, unyielding and always thoughtful. Right now, as she put a pen to her full and pretty pink lips, he looked at her and she momentarily looked back. Her eyes didn’t rebuff, or rebuke him. They simply passed by, and he hoped his gaze appeared as neutral as hers. But it wasn’t. He couldn’t look at her without feeling a little bit of wonder. She wasn’t a supermodel, but she possessed raw beauty. He sensed this person was driven, spirited, talented, and that, along with her fine face, bold blonde hair and slim curves made Ashley Pearson a perfect package. But as yet she hadn’t noticed him at all. In terms of Professor Cantor’s cluttered office, he may as well have been just another book slung upon the shelf.
He knew she was smart from the few comments she made in their seminars. And he loved the sound of her voice. It made him feel… relaxed, charmed. But there was weariness in her voice too. And as soon as he heard it, he realised she was incredibly tired. In fact, the girl was falling asleep. If Professor Cantor mistook her tiredness for boredom, he knew he would attack it. Tiredness like that had to be from the pressure she was under right now. Penny had told him all about it. Ashley’s arsehole brother had used up all her money to get himself out of a drug debt. Ashley had arrived at Smiths College with nothing but a few grand for food and lodgings, and now had to work round the clock to pay her tuition fees. He admired her for her determination. He didn’t let Penny know how much he admired her lovely friend in those other ways, because he knew Penny too well already. She talked too much and she interfered. Penny was proud of it too, so he avoided all mention of Ashley and kept their conversation in the Union bar focused on their studies. In Cantor’s room he saw Ashley in danger of meeting one massive deadline _her tuition fees –at the expense of failing to make the cut in her grades. If her work failed early the Lecturers would have the right to terminate her place on the course. Why would they do something as mean spirited as that? Because if a person was not committed or deemed incapable, they would be a discredit to the fine reputation of the college. Not only that, they would effect and bring down the other student attendance and performance. That was the thinking, he knew it. If you read between the neat lines in the college handbook, stripping away the academic jargon the message was plain for all to see. But what he could already see within Ashley showed that she deserved to be at this college. It was more than his desire for her, and more than her desire for the course. It was pure potential. She glowed with it. And he wasn’t about to let that be extinguished by her circumstances. Not if he could help it.
“Some people believe Blake was a genius. Some people believe he was an idiot and his status has grown far out of proportion to his talent. You’ve already heard some critical opinion. So, Ashley what’s your take on that?” said the Professor
Ashley’s head jerked at the mention of her name, and her hair flicked up. She licked her lips and he could tell from her eyes that she was trying to recall the question she’d just heard. There were a few seconds of painful silence.
“Umm,” said Ashley.
“We discussed this in the canteen, didn’t we?” he said quickly, making eye contact with Ashley, hoping she’d take the bait. “Remember, how some people think Blake is a genius and some think he’s over-hyped.”
Ashley narrowed her pretty eyes and then he saw she got it. The canteen meeting hadn’t happened at all, but she was with him.
“Absolutely,” she replied. “I don’t think you can over-hype a man of words and visual artistry who is able to produce his kind of extravagant poetry, or reveal to us visions of a world which overlaps our own. People like him are rare, and we should always celebrate them,”
She nodded a thanks his way. He smiled back.
“Well said. And Cody, for your interruption you can now tell us your view…”
It was his turn on the spot, but he had the benefit of sleep and a quick mind on his side. He leapt into the fray in customary style…
Soon after, as everyone fled Professor Cantor’s office, he noticed Ashley leave the room first. When he got away, she was waiting in the corridor clutching her folder to her chest. Her face was framed by a wall of pale blonde hair on either side. Her eyes were on mine, but they were saying a number of things, and he needed to find out what they meant.
“Hi, Ashley. I hope you didn’t mind that I jumped in there. I could see you had something else on your mind.”
“No... Great. I appreciate it. You’re Cody, right?” She remembered his name. That felt great.
“Don’t wear it out,” he smiled. She didn’t.
“Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to get this off my chest,” said Ashley. Oh dear. he had read those eyes all wrong.
“I can answer any and all the Professor’s questions for myself. I’m a big girl now, and I can even read my own books and everything. I went to school and I even made it to this college place all on my own. So I think I can manage. I know you meant well, but Cody, please, don’t do that again.”
“I’m sorry, Ashley. I just don’t want them to take against you. I know you’re working really hard – Penny told me –and I don’t want them to give you a hard time just because you didn’t hear one of his questions. Cantor can be a ball-breaker.”
“So can I. Like I said, I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need your help. So, what else did Penny tell you?” she said.
“Um. Nothing.”
“Yeah, right. Just because I’m an Essex blonde it really doesn’t mean I’m dumb. Okay?” said Ashley.
“What? I never thought you were! ” He said.
“Okay?”
Cody had to nod and accept what she was saying or this was going to get out of hand.
“You don’t know anything about my life, so please don’t act like you do. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, so let’s finish this now, okay?”
She was angry. She was probably only angry because she was tired, and man, he knew he didn’t deserve to take the brunt of it. But what else could he do? He wanted to build trust with her, to build a friendship, to be able to get to know her and help her release that potential. The only thing he could do right now, was shut up.
Ashley made a parting smile, and shifted off quickly out through the double-doors at the end of the narrow corridor. He watched after her, wondering how he’d managed to try so hard to help her and yet ended up in the doghouse. To be honest, he felt like crap. But he hadn’t given up. He’d taken the bad medicine in order to wait for another chance. And he was determined to get it. A new idea was dawning on him. If he could get her to sit and listen to him - which was a big if- she might yet understand : he was going to make a clear offer to help her. He would offer to become someone she could bounce texts, questions and ideas off and to get her essays flowing with. He was going to be Ashley’s study buddy. That way she wouldn’t fail the course, and if they ended up getting a lot closer out of the arrangement, well that wasn’t going to be a bad thing now, was it?
Seven
On reflection I think I gave Cody too hard a time. I was too tired for all the discussion and critique on William Blake, which wasn’t a great sign about my ability to cope with work and college. This was week 2, and our studies were still only on the baby stuff. How was I going to cope working thirty hours of late nights when we got onto the really deep stuff? I was going to have to find a magic formula to make my brain work twice as hard as the others. I needed Duracell for the mind. Cody was intelligent, and kind of a sweet guy, but I’d already decided he wasn’t for me. He had an answer for every question the Professors threw us, and from the way they talked about him, it sounded like they already had him down as a good writer. I heard he did performance poetry. Like I said, he wasn’t for me, though I had to say Cody was kind of easy on the eye, in an unusual way.
I had only one more class the rest of the week, so I was able to put thoughts of study hassle, and boys, aside to get down to working hard and showing Purdy I was worth my salt. I was lookin
g forward to the weekend, not so I could rest, but because the weekend was where the big tips would come from. In my quest to scoop enough cash to pay my fees, the weekends were going to really help. And Isabelle said the after-work parties at the weekends could make up for the slog the rest of the week. The after-work drinks were free, and it was some good downtime. That sounded great too. Anything to get my mind away from the pity-party. But things don’t always go exactly to plan. But I should have known that already, right?
By ten on clock on Friday night Purdy’s was full of the drum-hiss beat which was so loud it vibrated straight through your lungs and stomach. I was used to it by now and even kind of liked it. Being so busy when people were getting juiced up, cheering and dancing, kind of made me feel like I was part of something exciting. It made me feel alive. I was having to weave in and out of tables with trays of drinks and hot food held overhead, and there were plenty of people standing around drinking and laughing too. The bar staff and the kitchen crew were slogging hard. We had around three and a half hours to go before we could wind down at closing, though if the money was still rolling in I knew Reggie and Purdy would find it hard to resist extending the night for the customers.
When table twelve first sat down I could see they were already well sassed. They looked like students who’d saved up all their cash for a blow-out, and Purdy’s was just the ticket for that. There were five guys, two with Beatles style mop top haircuts, one with a big quiff, and two with longer hippy hair. None of them looked in particularly great moods but I’d been there before myself – you want to go out and have a good time but there’s something in the atmosphere of your friends that says it’s going to be hard going. This kind of fug was all over the group. But I wanted tips and I wanted to give Purdy a story about how well I could work this gig. I was going to turn it round.
Fighting Heart: Fighting Heart Erotic Bad Boy Romance Series Book 1 Page 4