And speak of the devil, the first of The Three Stooges, Ms. Cavanaugh, saw me coming down the block and announced my arrival with, “Here comes trouble.”
“You can say that again,” Ms. Cooper chimed in.
Finally, my grandmother spoke. “Mi niña, you’re home early, no?”
“Yes, I’m home a little earlier than usual, but no big deal. It’s not like we need to alert the media or anything, ladies.”
They all giggled like a bunch of schoolgirls instead of the seventy-something-year-olds they actually were. I laughed a little too, because everyone knew in this neighborhood that if you wanted to find out some dirt on someone, anyone, you came to these three ladies. They had the goods on everyone around here. It was pretty awesome how they were able to do it, seeing as how they never went anywhere other than this curb and probably hundreds of doctor appointments between them.
I was never so busy that I couldn’t give them some time either. So I popped a squat on the arm of my abuela’s chair to chat with them for a few minutes…and yeah, maybe get some of the latest gossip. I was only human for chrissakes!
“How are you all doing today? Any news to report?”
Cutting right to the chase, Ms. Cavanaugh cleared her throat, looked around and then over her shoulder just in case anyone else was listening. Like it would have stopped her. “Well you heard about Linda Horne in apartment 3A?” I answered no to her question. Then Ms. Cooper shook her head in disbelief while my grandmother crossed herself. “Oh, honey, it’s just awful. Awful!”
“What happened?” I asked.
“You know I’m not one to talk,” Ms. Cavanaugh said so seriously and I almost laughed right in her face. “Anyway, I’m sure you already know how her husband Jerry supposedly can’t work because of a back injury, right?”
“Not really, but go ahead.”
“Well there he his, home all day and night for the past few months while Linda is out working two jobs to make ends meet since his disability ran out. She feels so bad for him that one day last week she decides to suprise him by picking him up his favorite to-go meal from that Polish place over on Greepoint…do you know it?”
She barely gave me time to tell her no.
Ms. Cooper decided to give some insight on the matter. “They have the best goulash but their pierogies are terrible.”
“You think so? I’m not that fond of their pierogies. They’re a little on the soggy side, if you ask me. I think whoever is making the dough is probably not polish, if you know what I’m saying.”
“Then who could it be?” My grandmother asked, finally deciding to pipe in to their side conversation.
If I didn’t interrupt them now, they would probably never get back to the original topic.
“Ladies, wait, get back to Linda Horne in 3A, please.”
“Oh, right, right,” Ms. Cavanaugh said. She put her hand to her chest as if she was about to have a heart attack. “So she runs home early to surprise him and to bring him his food. When she unlocks the door to their apartment, she sees Jerry on the couch having a grand old time with their neighbor, Shawna from 3C.”
“Oh dear,” Ms. Cooper said.
My grandmother’s reaction, which even after probably hearing this story a million times by now, was just as shocked. “Por el amor de Dios.”
“According to Nancy Stankiewiecz who lives on the same floor, she said that Shawna was on her knees and barking like a dog while Jerry was behind her doing who knows what to her.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled but my grandmother heard it and still smacked me lightly on my arm. “So what happened? Did she kick him out?”
“Kick who out, dear?” Ms. Cavanaugh asked.
“Mrs. Horne, did she kick Jerry out for having an affair with the neighbor or what?”
Ms. Cooper answered. “Oh no, no, no, it’s not the first time he’s done this sort of thing, you know. Plus Linda said it was more pierogies for her that night.”
“Those must be some damn good pierogies then,” I said while shaking my head in disbelief.
We all started to laugh at that and the ridiculousness of the outcome of poor Linda Horne in 3A, until we saw a familiar and unwelcome face turn the corner and come up our street.
“Here’s that Joey character coming again for Eddie,” Ms. Cavanaugh told everyone in a hushed breath. She tsked a few times and then said, “Such a shame.”
My grandmother suddenly got really quiet, which only happened when she was either very upset or very nervous. In this case, she was both. It made me that much more upset on her behalf that Eddie was hanging out with Joey. And I already had my worry card full with this Oliver stuff on my mind and placing my trust with Max. I sure as hell didn’t need anything else to add to that right now. Especially not this snot-nosed mojon who thought he was going to audition for the role of “hoodlum number three” for the next edition of Law & Order.
Before he got too close to us, Eddie came jogging out of the building and down the steps. He had such a huge smile on his face that were it not for the fact that I knew where he was going, I would have thought he had won the lottery or something. He had on his usual outfit or variation of it: jeans, graphic t-shirt, bomber jacket, and a backwards baseball hat. Seriously, my little brother wore this outfit so often that we joked that he probably slept in it everyday.
“Hey, Daph, why are you home so early?” he asked. He bent low and gave our abuela a kiss on the crown of her head.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not that early, geez. Where are you off to anyway? Will you be back for dinner?”
Joey sidled up next to Eddie. They did that bro-hug thing that guys did sometimes and then Joey said to me, “Damn, girl, why so many questions? Eddie’s a grown ass man, he can take care of himself.”
“Mind your business,” I answered without sparing him a glance. “Eddie, where are you going and will you be back for dinner?”
Joey smacked his lips together and with the attitude fit for a king, said, “Don’t tell me to mind my business, bitch.”
Normally, someone calling me a bitch would piss me off to no end. But coming from an idiot like Joey, for some reason it didn’t resonate as much. And even though everything and everyone around us came to a screeching halt, I couldn’t begin to be bothered by his go-to insult because he was just so incosequential. Ms. Cavanaugh, Ms. Cooper, and my grandmother were all beside themselves on my behalf though. Each of them slowly starting to mutter and break up the silence with how they couldn’t believe what he said and how he was acting.
“All three of you can mind your business, too. Bunch of old busy bodies got nothing better to do than to gossip and talk shit.” Joey took a breath, licked his lips and went to say something else but Eddie stepped in front of him to cut him off.
“Everyone relax.” He patted Joey on the shoulder. “Yo, man, I’ll meet you over by the park in a few.”
“Yeah, right, sure, bro.” Joey was eyeing me up and down with a grin even more ludicrous than Max’s.
He didn’t scare me, though. I stood with my hands on my hips looking as bored as ever until he was out of sight. Then, I tore into Eddie. “Are you serious? You’re going to let him call your sister a bitch and insult your grandmother and her friends and still go and hang out with that trash? Like you’re okay with all of that? What the hell, Eddie?”
“Daph, he didn’t mean it. He’s just acting that way because you had an attitude with him from the moment he showed up. Why can’t you act nice for once with him? Did you ever think of that?” He took a breath and kept going. “You know just because you got this new job on TV doesn’t make you the boss of everything around here. You’re still from Queens. Not an actual queen.”
“Is that right?” I asked but didn’t want an answer, because how dare he throw my career choice back in my face. Especially since he damn well knew he was a big reason why I took the job with Max to begin with. “Well, let me explain how all of this works. That,” I pointed towards the direction of wher
e Joey had stalked off to, “is a grade-A piece of shit that is not your friend. All he’s going to do is get you into trouble. He’s bad news, Eddie. We, on the other hand, are the good guys and are the ones actually looking out for you.”
“Stop it with your mommy-complex, Daphne. You’re not my mom, and I can do whatever I want!”
Eddie barely spared me another glance before fast walking down the sidewalk to catch up to Joey. I wanted to yell after him, but it was no use. The betrayal and anger I felt coursing through my veins made me feel like my head was going to explode. He had always been an annoying little brother who I loved to death, but nowadays he had this invisible chip on his shoulder that I couldn’t ever grasp. It was so frustrating to know he was so full of talent and smarts in one aspect of his life, but in this part, he was completely clueless. And it worried me more and more of where it was headed.
“Mija, no vayas tras él,” my abuela said quietly. She took my hand in hers softly. “Don’t chase after him, Daphne. Come on; let’s go inside. I’ll fix you something to eat.”
I hadn’t even noticed that she had folded her chair back up already. It made me even more upset that we had ruined her socializing time with her friends. Who, when I glanced over my shoulder to see what they were up to, saw that they were super quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that told me they were going to be gossiping to everyone up and down this block about what they just witnessed.
Great. Because that was exactly what I needed.
I sighed feeling the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Knowing that I had just enough to time to eat a little dinner with my grandmother, take a shower, get dressed, and then meet Max at some new bar in the West Village by nine o’clock to scope it out before we taped a show there tomorrow night, it was all too much at that exact moment. It wasn’t often that I admitted it to anyone, much less myself, but I felt overwhelmed and I thought I might cry out of frustration. Frustration over my brother, frustration over my schedule and situation at work with Max and my boss, and frustration over all the things I couldn’t control. But like everything else in my life, I would keep on keeping on.
Barely sparing Ms. Cavanaugh and Ms. Cooper a glance, I wished them both a good night and said, “Let’s go have some dinner, abuela.”
Because life went on whether we liked it or not, right?
Right.
It was a little past nine o’clock that same night when I got to the fairly new bar in the West Village that I was supposed to be meeting Max at.
Based solely on the name of the place, I already knew I would like it.
It was called Lounge.
That’s it. Simple and to the point.
On any other day of the week, I would be pretty excited about doing the legwork that tonight would involve. But after the day I’d had today, I already knew it just wasn’t going to turn out well. Like I had a strong underlying sense of impending doom in the pit of my stomach that pulsed and grew stronger with every step closer I took to the front door. I had tried to shake it off during the subway ride here, but no dice. Stupid Taylor Swift, your advice sucks, I thought to myself.
I didn’t like leaving my apartment tonight knowing my little brother hadn’t made it home yet either. I told my grandmother to text me as soon as he arrived, though. So hopefully, within the next hour, I would get some good news. Because whoever came up with that saying, “no news is good news,” was an asshole. I needed news, dammit. And I needed it now!
On the plus side, I didn’t have to wait to get into place. There was no line outside…yet. Then again, it was relatively early for it to be too busy. With no wait, came no bouncer, so I strolled right in. As soon as I was inside, it felt as if I had been transported to a different time and place. The décor, the music, the lighting; it was all like something right out of an episode of Mad Men. In the back of my mind, I hoped to turn a corner and run into Don Draper himself, but no such luck. Instead, I quickly spotted Max sitting by himself on mid-century modern couch up against the far wall. I smiled at the sight of him and tried to hide it immediately just in case he caught it. Grudgingly, I had to admit he looked really good sitting there. Like he owned the place, like he was untouchable, like he didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him or said to him.
I aspired to be like that most of the time. But I could never get to the I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-people-thought-of-me-level no matter how hard I tried. And I think that was my biggest problem; I shouldn’t have to try so hard to be that carefree. Max Allen, on the other hand, he looked like he would fit right in in any place, at any time, and looked damn good doing it.
Not a beat later, Max spotted me across the not-at-all crowded room. Once he saw me, he was tracking my every move towards him. More than that, I was keenly aware of how much I liked the feeling of his eyes on me. And as quickly as that thought popped into my head, I brushed it aside and started to beat myself up for thinking of it for all of a second.
Girl, don’t even go there. He’ll chew you up and spit you out. Plus, you can’t stand him anyway, right?
“Yep, you idiot,” I answered myself quietly like a crazy person.
Once I was within arm’s reach of Max, he patted the spot next to him on the couch. His usually dark eyes were light with amusement as he waggled his eyebrows. “Saved you a spot.”
As I sat down I had to keep myself from smiling at his…his…I didn’t even know exactly. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was about Max if I tried. But I couldn’t let on that I enjoyed it even a little bit. My armor went right back up and I made my face go slack of any emotion. Because the last thing I needed was to have Max think I liked him. And like was even too strong of a word to describe it because the feeling was teeny-tiny, so inconsequential really that it wasn’t worth exploring.
“What did I do now?” he asked.
“Nothing, why?”
“Because your face looks like someone took a shit in your best pair of shoes.”
“That’s super descriptive, so thanks for that.”
“Then I’m not in trouble?”
“No, you’re not in ‘trouble.’ What are you twelve or something?”
He chuckled. “No, but my brothers have no problem reminding me daily how I’m the baby of the family. You have a brother, right?”
“Yeah and he’s currently working my last nerve.”
With the mention of my little brother, I anxiously pulled out my cellphone from my wristlet to see if I had missed an update. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. The little shit still wasn’t home.
I shot Eddie a quick text:
Abuela is waiting up for you. Please let her know you’re okay.
Pressing send, I could feel Max staring at me. It was that intense. And I hated how a slight blush hit my cheeks knowing he was still watching my every move.
“Take a picture it’ll last longer.”
“Damn, you’re mean.”
I sighed, because I wasn’t actually a mean person. At least I didn’t think so. I think it was more that I was trying to protect myself from liking this banter between us anymore than I should.
“Max, I’m not mean, I’m just—”
“Meanie.” He caught me so off guard with this that I giggled. Then he waved a hand in the direction of the bartender. With some sign language between them, they had a silent conversation that I think involved ordering of drinks. “I’m getting you an alcoholic beverage.”
Laughing a little at the way he was so formal about it, I said to him, “You know we’re not supposed to be drinking on the job, Max. That’s not being very professional. So thanks but no thanks.”
“Relax, you little rule follower. Plus, rules are always made to be broken.”
“No, Max, they’re not. In fact, it’s the complete opposite because rules are there to be followed. Without rules there would be—”
“Anarchy?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and his lips curling up in a fiendish smile.
“Yes, exactly that. Thank you.”
H
e was good at keeping my thoughts preoccupied with stupid things that didn’t involve my little brother and his non-response. Because during the time we were going back and forth, our drinks had arrived much to my dismay. The bartender must have placed the two tiny shot glasses filled with clear liquid in front of us and left without making a peep.
As I looked at the shots, I told him, “Nice try, but I don’t do shots. Definitely not tequila shots.”
Max all but ignored me and said, “Bullshit,” under his breath.
“Seriously, I don’t really drink. Especially when I’m working. Which, hello, we’re supposed to be working, aren’t we?”
“We are working, Daphne, in case you didn’t notice.”
Rolling my eyes, I pulled my gaze away from Max and glanced around the lounge. Since I had arrived, a few more people had too. They were crowding the bar now and the surrounding seating areas. Suddenly someone had dimmed the lights to create more of a mellow vibe. It worked and I liked it a lot. All that was left were some small fairy type lights that were strung across and over all the exposed beams of the ceiling. And then as if on cue, the volume of the calm and cool jazz playing low in the background had been raised. People’s heads started to bob in time to the smooth beats, and a relaxed warm feel feeling over the entire lounge that made you feel like a baby being tucked into a bed at night.
“Here you go, you big meanie,” Max said in a smooth voice. He held the shot glass of tequila between us like he was silently daring me.
I could have sworn he was closer to me, or maybe it was the low lighting that made it seem that way. Even now with his face in a slight shadow, it was still obvious to even a blind woman that he was easily the most handsome man in the room. And it was also more than evident that Max knew that as well. I wish that fact could less amuse me too.
The Better Man (Allen Brothers Series Book 2) Page 9