Retribution

by Jasmine White

  ~ ~ ~

  A thin haze of cigarette smoke hung in the nightclub like early morning fog over the ocean. A woman’s gentle singing voice drifted over the soft murmur of voices and clink of fine china. In the corner of the main room Johnny and Katherine sat next to each other in dim light.

  “What can I get you to drink? Some wine perhaps? A bit of champagne for the lady?” The waiter hovered about their table, the white towel draped over his shoulder appeared to be the only thing keeping him connected to the ground.

  “Just a glass of white wine for me.” Katherine deftly considered Johnny’s paycheck. Maybe if she could show him it wasn’t too expensive he’d be inclined to take her out more often.

  “I’ll have a scotch and soda,” Johnny told the waiter before giving Kate a sarcastic glance before he covered it with a grin, which appeared somewhat forced.

  “Right away.” The man floated off in the direction of the kitchen.

  Johnny reached into his pocket to pull out a cigarette that he tapped on the table several times before plunging his other hand back into his trouser pocket for his lighter.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Johnny asked in amusement as he noticed Kate studying the room.

  “Yes. I was admiring the interior design.”

  “Of course. Everywhere we go you’re imagining a giant floor plan. Always trying to one-up me with your college knowledge.”

  Katherine felt some steam well up in her but submersed it by pulling out her compact and deliberately touching up her already-perfect powder. There was no use getting into a fight. This was a rare night out with Johnny and she’d be darned if it wasn’t going to be a bloody good one. “It’s addicting,” she replied strategically. “Once you know the work that goes into every detail, it commands admiration.”

  “Your admiration perhaps.” He justified with a smile as he inhaled another drag on the cigarette and allowed his eyes to take in the room. It pleased her to see that he was slowly viewing the room, stopping on details like the blue centerpiece vases, or the chandeliers. And she was happy to simply watch him, hoping that he was seeing the place as she had, as an artistic creation complete with lights and shadows and colors. Then the peaceful look which had briefly transformed his face left it, and his smile turned to a scowl when he muttered under his breath, “Wesley. Why does he always have to interrupt everything?”

  Kate’s heart did a Titanic and sank. Wesley, Pamela, and Mike were making a beeline straight for their table. “Please try to be civil,” she urged under her breath. “Let’s not ruin our special night.”

  He gave her a smile and appeared to be summoning up effort. “All right. If you want me to. I’ll be polite to the man.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  Wesley reached their table first. “Kate! All right if we join you?” He didn’t wait for an answer and gave Johnny the benefit of a curt nod before sitting down next to Katherine while Mike pulled up two chairs from a nearby table for him and Pamela.

  “Of course it’s okay. I didn’t even see you come in.”

  Pamela relaxed into one of the plush white seats. “We all saw you two right when you came in. Decided you wouldn’t mind some extra company.”

  “We don’t mind at all,” Johnny assured her.

  “Didn’t figure you would.” Mike winked at Katherine before seating himself, his white tuxedo emphasizing his bronze tan. Kate forced herself to look away from his alluring physique before the others noticed; now was not a good time to make Johnny jealous.

  Wesley motioned for the waiter and sat there like a king as he ordered more drinks for the table. Then he turned his attention back to the couple. “Fancy meeting you two here. I didn’t think you took to the night life.” This he directed to Johnny.

  “He is when I’m with him,” Katherine supplied quickly, while slipping her arm within her fiancé’s and administering a warning squeeze.

  Johnny replied, “Yep.”

  “Who’s ready to dance?” Oblivious to the tension between the other two men, Mike stood back up and led a giggling Pamela to the dance floor.

  “I’ll dance.” Katherine stood up, anxious to escape the charged environment at the table; slowly she made her way to the dance floor, not knowing which man would follow her, if either. Then an arm slipped about her waist and Wesley’s voice was reaching her ears.

  “Johnny doesn’t seem to be his chipper self,” he commented sarcastically as they began moving with the other dancers in a slow waltz.

  Kate fought off a brigade of hot tears that were welling behind her eyes and responded more briskly than she’d intended. “He’s fine. Got a lot on his mind lately.”

  And through her fingers she thought she felt his body stiffen momentarily. But then she chalked it up to her imagination as he responded easily enough. “Hmm . . . whatever could that be? What could be troubling our fair Johnny?”

  “Enough,” Katherine choked out at his patronizing drawl, almost in tears. She knew something was bothering Johnny, something was eating him up. And it was killing her inside, that she didn’t know what. And it killed her inside that she suspected him.

  She could feel Wesley’s gaze looking down on her and kept her head turned into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, much to her surprise. “That was uncalled for.”

  “Yes, it was.” She angrily swiped away a soldier tear that had escaped down her cheek. Why did she have to have a crying fit now, of all the times, and to have it here, in front of Wesley of all the people? Her face flushed with embarrassment.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” Wesley suggested in a gentle tone. “How do you like your new table?”

  “My new table . . . why is it that everyone wants to know about my desk?”

  “I’m guessing it was just me and Johnny who asked about it, since we were the ones at the auction with you.”

  “Yes, I suppose so. Why were you there? At the auction I mean. What possible interest could you have in the professor’s belongings? I mean, you could buy his entire flat if you wished.”

  “True. I could.” Wesley mused, as though he hadn’t thought of how little the value of Drake’s possessions amounted to for him.

  “Then why were you there?” Katherine persisted. She had become aware of a strange tingle running up her waist from where his hand was resting on her and made herself keep talking to distract herself from it. And why was she feeling so giddy all of sudden. She let out a little ripple of laughter—first she was almost crying, now she was giddy? Why? This was only Wesley, whom she’d danced with a million times. Still, a breathless feeling persisted. Maybe she’d had too much excitement for one day . . . or too much wine. It’d been a while since she drank wine. The room spun slowly on its own.

  All at once the rotating chairs, the people, stopped spinning as the music paused and people began to leave the dance floor. Wesley stood there for a moment studying her. “Maybe you ask too many questions,” he said roughly and pulled her close.

  She didn’t process what was happening until his lips met hers in a long kiss. Suddenly the dizziness was gone. Gaining control of herself, she pushed him away angrily, turning and starting in almost a run, weaving through the other dancers who had returned to their spots on the floor for a salsa number.

  “Kate, wait!”

  She ignored the urgent voice behind her until several seconds later when Wesley caught up with her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to a stop. “I’ll answer your questions.”

  Katherine stared blindly up at him in a panic. She tried to twist out of his grip, her eyes searching the dimly lit room for Johnny. Where was he? Had he seen Wesley kissing her?

  Wesley maintained his hold for a moment until she stopped squirming and stood still. “You weren’t the only one who knew Drake. He was my friend too.” His voice broke slightly at the end, but he continued regardless. “And if you remember, that’s how we met in the first place. Being there with his things, well, it was almost like
he was there too for a moment.” His moved his hands to her shoulders and turned her towards him so that she had to face him fully. “A beast like me does have feelings as well, you know.”

  Katherine forced herself to look up but avoided his eyes, afraid to see the pleading there, and stared instead at his forehead. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.” He was silent for the instant before he released her with a little sigh.

  “Sorry,” muttered an olive-skinned man who bumped into Grant’s lean back which was encroaching on the edge of the dance floor.

  Wesley gave the couple a curt nod as the man led his lithe redheaded partner in the other direction before turning again to Katherine. “We should get back to the table. We’ll continue this conversation later.”

  She only nodded, afraid if she spoke, the words would be choked and barely audible. Wesley was making her extremely uncomfortable and she was anxious to get away from him—but at the same time she almost dreaded having to face Johnny. But she knew she had to, for his sake. He needed her and she owed him an explanation.