One Lucky Girl

by Natasha L. Black

  For good few seconds, I thought I’d misheard her, so I paused, waiting for more to come.

  “You’re the best cops I have,” she continued. “And I don’t take that lightly. Blair may have joined your ranks with time too.”

  I frowned. What was she saying?

  “I do have a reputation of being an intractable bitch,” Chief continued. “But the truth of the matter is, what I care about is work ethic. And you four seem to have it. As long as it stays that way, and none of this hanky-panky makes it into the office, that’s all that matters to me.”

  Chief Fallows rose, waving her hand at the door. “But start coming in late and sneaking in private time when you’re supposed to be on the clock, and this will be a very different conversation.”

  Her eyes had become half lidded, menacing. It took me a good few seconds to notice that the others had gotten to their feet and were preparing to leave.

  “Thank you Chief,” Blair said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Chief Fallows said. “Let’s see how the four of you get on. And no breakup drama here either when this thing goes south.”

  It didn’t escape me how she had said “when”.

  “We understand completely, Chief,” Jeremy said. “And you have our word that we’re going to keep it professional.”

  “Good.” The Chief nodded, and sat back down, returning her gaze to her seemingly unending mass of paperwork. “You can go now.”

  I only remembered to breathe once I was outside, facing the others. Noah looked like he was about to keel over, while Jeremy and Blair were all smiles.

  “Can you believe it?” Jeremy said. “I thought I was about to get my pink slip for sure.”

  “Me too,” Blair said. “I was beginning to think I’d really screwed up.”

  36

  Noah

  One drink at Wild Wings turned into barhopping on the main strip. We finally settled at Club 10, where Peter got us a table with some bottle service.

  “If not losing our jobs isn’t an occasion to celebrate,” he said, “Then I don’t know what is.”

  He was right – we’d just dodged a major bullet. As soon as I’d been called into Chief Fallows’ office, I’d broken out into a cold sweat, one that hadn’t left completely even now. Luckily, a few drinks were taking the edge off.

  “I’m telling you,” Blair was saying to Jeremy and Peter. “If we were going to have a night out, I’d rather be dressed a bit different.”

  I eyed Blair for a minute. “Why? You look fine. More than fine,” I said.

  Blair waved me off. “You’re biased. I only had time to throw sweats in my locker this morning. Not exactly clubbing clothes,” she said, looking at us. At least we were in jeans and t shirts. Jeremy then glanced at Blair. “We can fix that if you want.”

  We rambled down the street, going into the first store we saw. As it turned out, it was a Goth punk store, and the others and I had a great time picking out different adventurous outfits for Blair to try on.

  “Seriously?” she said, holding a lacy, half see-through corset with two fingers.

  “Just try it on,” Peter urged.

  So, she disappeared into the changing room, reappearing a minute later, although in the same clothes.

  “I will, as long as you boys try these on – without any shirts.”

  She flung three spike-studded coats at us, ones she’d found left in the changing room presumably.

  “Deal,” Jeremy said immediately.

  As the bored cashier watched, we stripped off our shirts and tried the jackets on.

  “You two look gorgeous,” Jeremy drawled to us in an over-the-top voice.

  We didn’t have time to respond, because the next second the door to Blair’s change room had opened. Inside, Blair was completely transformed. The corset squeezed her already perfect curves into greater heights of perfection, her waist incredibly small, blooming out into her hips.

  And then there was the fact that the fabric, the black lace in the see-through panels, suited her to a T. Blair, however, shifted uneasily. “I don’t know….”

  Jeremy, jaw agape, took a moment to compose himself. Then, he said, “We’re getting it.”

  Blair frowned. “I never said I would get it.”

  As Jeremy, Peter and I sputtered trying to explain just how hot she looked right then, she paused, an evil smiling crawled over her features. “Okay, I’ll wear it. But on one condition.”

  Twenty minutes later, we were walking back into Club 10. Although this time, we attracted looks for opposite reasons. Mainly because Blair looked mind-blowingly hot in her new corset that we’d bought her, while Jeremy, Peter, and I looked pretty outlandish and wild in our punk studded coats.

  Jeremy wasted no time in getting us drinks.

  “So that I can forget how everyone is staring at me,” he complained, downing his rum in two efficient gulps.

  Blair smirked with the side of her mouth. “So it’s okay for me to wear something ridiculous, but not you guys?”

  She had a point. Together, the four of us had basically all eyes in the place -- and there were a lot -- on us.

  Peter considered our surroundings - mirrored walls, posh dressed clientele - with a shrug.

  “Well, if we’re going to get stared at, might as well have fun doing it.”

  And with that, he took Blair by the hand and led all of us onto the dance floor. It was pretty packed, but we found space enough for the four of us. Then, with Blair in the middle, Jeremy in front and Peter back, we started letting the music work through us.

  With my vodka water bubbling through my veins, the techno beat thrashing through my mind, it was easy letting the music take over. Letting it guide my hands and my body to where they wanted to be. On Blair. Before I knew it, four of us were all dancing together, the three of us around Blair, dancing close and pressed up together. Over Blair’s shoulder I could see the stupefied look of a few people who noticed us, but I didn’t care.

  Right then, I was celebrating with my girl and my brothers, and I wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that.

  So, song after song after song we danced and drank, Jeremy flitting back and forth to get us drinks. Finally, Blair excused herself to the bathroom. Instead of coming back to us though, she only paused on her way back, saying, “I’m going to get some air.”

  By this point, Jeremy and Peter had gone off to the bathroom themselves, so I followed Blair.

  She went over to the side of the building, a well-lit alleyway, and I went to sit beside her on some steps.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  Her gaze was tracing the brickwork of the building opposite us, with its patches of missing dappled brick.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “There’s something I should tell you guys.”

  “Oh?”

  “Tomorrow,” she explained. “I have a dinner planned with my family and … I want you guys to come.”

  I felt like hugging her right then and there, but I settled on squeezing her hand excitedly. “But of course we’ll come. What’s the problem?”

  Blair was tearing at her lower lip with her teeth. “Do you really not see any problem?”

  Her quiet sad question brought me back to my senses. I had seen the people looking at us on the dance floor, right? And it was just people who didn’t know us. What would her own family think of our arrangement?

  Everything had been happening so fast lately I hadn’t really thought it over, how to best present what I would do if worse came to worst and our families didn’t approve. Now though, sitting beside Blair, it suddenly seemed imperative that I know what to do. Not only that, but that I make her see why it was going to be okay.

  “I’m really excited to meet them,” was all I could think to say.

  She smiled, a bit sadly again. “I am too. I just really hope it goes well.”

  “I really hope so too,” I said.

  A few minutes later, we were joined by Jeremy and Peter.

  “
Thought you guys ditched us for a moment,” Jeremy said with a face that still looked irritated at the thought of it.

  “We were just talking about tomorrow,” I said. “Blair booked a dinner for us with her parents and her sister.”

  “That’ll be great. A bit stressful,” Peter admitted.

  “A bit,” Jeremy echoed moodily. His gaze went to Blair. “Any tips?”

  Blair looked like she could use some tips herself.

  “No,” she said after some while. “Wish I could say that I know what to expect, but I’ve no clue. My parents are pretty easy-going, but they’re traditional. I don’t think they’ve even heard of relationships with more than two people, let alone whether they’d approve of them. I tried to kind of hint at it over the phone but….” She shook her head. “I don’t know what they’re going to say. I’m just hoping that.…”

  Her gaze lifted to traverse all three of us. “They see you guys. Really see you, how I see you. The amazing, gentle, generous, giving men you are.”

  “You forgot sexy,” Jeremy quipped.

  Peter rolled his eyes. “We’ll do our best, Blair. And if the dinner goes well, maybe you could meet our parents.”

  Suddenly, the easy smile on Jeremy’s face was wiped away. He was both our parents’ favorite and the bane of their existence, mainly because of his numerous and varied escapades throughout our childhood.

  Instead of Peter’s words reassuring Blair, however, by the looks of it they only stressed her out more. I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. Our parents are the exact opposite of traditional. Back in the day, they were full-fledged hippies. And even now Mom reads a horoscope just about every day.”

  Blair had to smile a bit at that. “So, you’re saying as long as our stars are aligned that your parents will approve of me?”

  “Something like that, yeah,” Peter said, smiling now too.

  On the ground, I kicked a stray pebble. If only it were that simple for us to make a good impression on Blair’s parents. As it stood, I wanted to; more than anything.

  37

  Blair

  The next day was a waiting game. The night before had ended tamely enough, all of us wisely deciding without needing to say it that a quiet night in our own beds was best. Especially considering what was happening tonight: my parents meeting my boyfriends. Just thinking about it gave me an eye twitch.

  By now, I knew that the odd looks I was getting at the station were because people suspected things already. That was one thing, but how were my own parents going to look at me when they knew what I’ve gotten myself into? Coworkers didn’t really affect your life like your family did.

  It shouldn’t matter, but I’d always been close with my family; my mom, my dad, Ella. If this got between us, I didn’t know what I would do.

  So as the day dragged on, I threw myself into handing out speeding tickets with Jeremy with fervor and wolfed down my sub at lunchtime too. Fear had always made me hungry, same with Ella.

  By the time dinnertime rolled around and we got to Applebee’s, Ella and my parents were already there.

  “Hello,” we all said awkwardly.

  Although I’d done my best to explain the situation over the phone, my parents had sounded perplexed at best. And now they looked even more perplexed. Their eyes nervously went from Jeremy, to Peter, before finally stopping on Noah. Their expression then softened. They were probably relieved that my boyfriends at least looked upstanding enough.

  In fact, the guys had gone all out with slacks and dress shirts and looked so good that I had to stop myself from jumping them in the car on the way over. In front of my parents , I felt super self-conscious. Like everything I did was being studied, and would be studied, under a microscope in the hours come.

  In any case, the blonde waitress who sat us at a booth didn’t bat an eyelash. If only I could have said the same for my parents. As we sat down, they, like me, didn’t seem to know where to begin. Peter’s polite attempts at conversation, as well as my own valiant efforts to talk about something we all had in common -- the new city transit system, the specials at Applebee’s -- everything seemed stilted and awkward. As if we were actors who’d forgotten the lines.

  And then, finally, Ella said it. Turning to Peter, she asked, “What do you think of the situation?”

  And just like that, the bomb that had been ticking steadily was ignited. Peter, to his credit, didn’t let the apprehension he must’ve been feeling show on his face.

  “The situation,” he said. He pursed his lips. “Am I going to tell you that this is how I imagined being with my dream girl? No. Frankly, not at all.” His affectionate gaze rested on me, and I could feel myself blushing. “But that’s the thing,” Peter continued. “As cheesy as it sounds, Blair is my dream girl. The more time I spend with her, the more time I want to spend with her. And while this whole situation with my brothers is really weird, and I don’t know frankly, if it can even work, I like Blair too much not to try.”

  I exhaled with relief. Now that was an Oscar-worthy speech. And the best thing of all was that it was true, you could see it in Peter’s smile.

  Not one to be outdone, Jeremy added, “There’s a bunch of reasons why this shouldn’t work, why this isn’t a good idea.” His hand reached for mine and squeezed it. “But there is one reason why I have to try. And you’re looking at her.”

  “He’s right,” Noah said, “She gets us. Weirdly enough, as different as my brothers and I are, Blair gets us. And I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Collins. I’m sorry that we’re not what you hoped for for your daughter. But I hope that we can be the men that you hoped she’d end up with.”

  My parents sipped at their water, looking a bit mollified at least. Ella, for her part, had listened attentively and was now outright smiling.

  “You seem like good guys,” she proclaimed. Her nose crinkled. “Really weird situation. But who knows, it could work.”

  I beamed at her. I would’ve jumped up and hugged Ella, if that hadn’t involved making everyone in the booth move to allow me to get by.

  Just then, two more people appeared at the head of our table. “Sorry we’re late.”

  I glance to the curly-haired woman with her Indian-style chiffon shirt. There was something about her that looked familiar.

  Peter glared at Jeremy. “You didn’t.”

  Jeremy’s shrugged, as unrepentant as ever. “Why not? Figured we might as well get this thing over with.”

  He swung an arm in the direction of the newcomers. “Mom, Dad … meet Blair.”

  And just like that, the tension that had been simmering in me and lessened with the latest back-and-forth burst into full volcanic activity. Jeremy had invited his parents too? The tall thin woman with the dark hair and the familiar face was their mom. And the sturdy unsmiling man with the rough-cut face was their dad.

  “Here,” Noah got up and fetched two chairs and put them down at the end of the table. “You guys can sit on these.”

  “Great,” their mom said, her attention never straying far from me. “What did we miss?”

  As if noticing my parents for the first time, her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I am sorry. I was so concentrated on taking in this girlfriend of my sons that I didn’t even notice you there.” She stuck out a birdlike hand. “I’m Mrs. Bowing, Maritia, the boys’ mother.”

  As she shook my mom’s hand, then dad’s and then finally Ella’s, she said, a bit self-effacingly, “And just so you know. I find this as peculiar as you.” She let out a little laugh. “When I said that I wanted my sons to finally find a nice girl and settle down, I didn’t mean the same one.”

  We all chuckled a bit at that, although I could’ve sunk into the crack in the booth seat right about now. It seemed that everyone’s attention was keenly stuck on me. It occurred to me that, like it or not, I had to say something.

  “I’m sorry too.” I said it to the guys, to their parents and mine. “I never expected this to happen. Or wanted it to. I tried fighting my feeli
ngs, but the more time I spent with Jeremy, Peter, Noah, the less control I had over myself. All I know is, if I don’t give this this a shot with all of them, then I’m going to regret it. Not because of the chance to be with three men who treat me like a princess. But missing out on the chance to be with these three men. I would have fallen for Jeremy, Peter, or Noah, wherever I met them.” I paused. “And it’s just my luck that I happened to fall for them all at the same time.”

  “So, what you’re saying is,” Mr. Boeing said gruffly, “Is when you lot are together, you’re happy.”

  Under the table, one of the guys’ hand closed on mine, and then another, and then another.

  “Yes,” we said.

  There was something expectant, insistent about the pause. Finally, when my mom said, “Well, that’s good enough for me. At least for now,” I felt my heart soar at her words.

  “What does that mean, at least for now?” Jeremy said.

  Peter elbowed him. “Want to ruin our good luck?”

  “What I meant was,” my mom said, still smiling. “I really don’t know much about you boys. But so far I’m liking what I’m seeing. As I get to know you, I’ll be able to have a better impression.”

  “That’s fair,” Noah said. “And we’ll do our best to make you proud.”

  “That’s more than fair,” Peter said. He lifted his glass. “Here’s to that then. To Blair Collins.”

  “Guys,” I protested as they lifted their cups.

  But, regardless, everyone chorused, “To Blair Collins” as they clinked their cups.

  By the time our meals arrived, the talk had relaxed. As it turned out, the guys’ mom – Maritia- was a great conversationalist, while Ella and Noah hit it off well, too. It was as one big, happy dysfunctional family that we were when our drinks were delivered. I was thinking about how well everything had gone off, when, lifting my glass, I dropped it.