by Carter Ashby
Fate, his eternal enemy, must have been at work. It had chosen the worst possible person to find him in such a position. Janice was on her knees, clutching her shirt to her chest, and Jayce was holding his pants closed when Maya walked in. Maya hardly ever talked to him. She hardly ever looked at him. She didn’t even remember the few moments they’d had together in school. Any other time he would have fallen to his knees and rejoiced to the heavens that she’d approached him. God only knew how much lower her opinion of him was about to go.
She looked like an angel, as always. She was bundled up in a coat with a scarf around her neck and a stocking cap over her feathery, light brown curls. Her mouth hung open. “Oh, God,” she gasped. “Jayce, I’m so sorry. I’ll come back later.”
“No, no,” he said, finally getting his pants fastened. “Come in. This is fine.”
“Really?”
Janice stood and kissed Jayce on the cheek before slipping quietly out of the room. Maya clutched her purse in both hands and stepped out of Janice’s way. Jayce sank back down in his chair and wished the earth would just swallow him whole. “What can I do for you, Maya?”
She edged around the chair in front of his desk and sat. Her eyes were wide and she was nibbling at her bottom lip. He’d seen the nervous gesture a million times. “Um, I don’t know if you remember back around Christmas we talked about me maybe working here?”
Shit. He remembered. As always, with her, he’d managed to say the wrong thing and upset her. He’d told her he didn’t want to hire her and he hadn’t lied about the reasoning. The last place he wanted to see Maya working was his bar. She was better than that.
“You’re looking for work?” he asked. “I think they need a new office manager over at the clinic—”
“I can’t type. I don’t know any of the computer programs. I don’t have a diploma. I can’t get a job as an office manager.”
Jayce sat forward. Even with the desk separating them, she still shrank back away from him. How did this timid, frightened, mouse of a woman expect to serve drinks in a bar full of rowdy men? On any given Friday night, Janice had to slap about two dozen hands to keep her ass from being grabbed. “Sounds like your best course of action is to work on that GED.”
“I will. But I have children to feed right now.”
“Zoey and Kellen—”
“They’re the best friends in the world. They’ve absolutely given and given and given to me.” Tears welled in her green eyes and her voice cracked. “But I need, for myself, to start earning a living. I’ll get the GED. But I need an income. Now.”
Jayce rubbed at his jaw. “The diner?”
“Not hiring.”
“I saw a sign at Dierbergs—”
“They hired someone else.”
He racked his brain, desperate to find her some place to work that didn’t involve subjecting her body to the lewd stares of his customers.
Her breath hitched. “Am I not…not attractive enough?”
“What? No, Maya. That’s got nothing to do with—”
“Because I know how your waitresses dress. I could dress that way, too. I mean, maybe I could stuff my bra or something.”
“No. Maya, just…no.”
“Do you want me to do what Janice was doing to you before I walked in? Is that what it’ll take for you to hire me?”
“Jesus Christ!” He was on his feet, pacing away from his desk, feeling like the lowest kind of scum. “Listen, Janice and I are friends, okay? I do not do that with the other girls. I don’t want that from you. I just…”
“Just what? You think I can’t handle the work?”
He’d made it to the wall. He dropped his forehead against it and closed his eyes. “I just want better for you, Maya. You deserve better.”
She was quiet. The rough brick of the back wall of his office dug into his forehead.
“It’s a nice bar, Jayce,” she said softly, her voice quivering. “Maybe not classy…but definitely not trashy. I wouldn’t mind—”
“Isn’t there anywhere else you haven’t tried yet?” He turned to face her. “Anywhere at all?”
She swallowed. Her skin went pale and her eyes suddenly lost their luster. “Yeah,” she said, “there’s one other place.”
Jayce blew out a breath and leaned his back against the wall. “Great. You try it out, and if you still have no luck, we’ll talk.” If nothing else, it would buy him a little time to find some other job options for her.
She stood, carrying herself like an injured, elderly woman. “Thank you. I’m sorry for bothering you.”
That made him want to punch a wall. He hated her apologizing to him and thanking him and simpering and cowering. After she left he stared after her, sick to his stomach with disgust. She’d never been bold and assertive, but back in high school she’d at least displayed a little life. Vibrancy. Enthusiasm. It was all gone, now. Beaten out of her.
Jayce shook himself, grabbed the cigarettes he’d been trying to quit off and on for the past few years, and stepped out the back exit. He leaned against the building and lit his cigarette. The cold, late-January wind pierced through his t-shirt and jeans. Jayce didn’t mind the cold. He always figured since his blood ran so hot most of the time, a little cold weather was good for him. His skin pebbled and his body shivered, but he continued to smoke, forcing himself to stand still and take the wind’s punishment.
He thought about Maya. He’d been doing that a lot, recently—thinking about Maya. With her soon-to-be ex-husband in prison for breaking his restraining order, Maya had moved in with her best friend, Zoey. Zoey was dating Jayce’s best friend, Kellen. Jayce would be calling Kellen right this minute if Kellen had been in town. Instead, he was in Japan photographing some festival or something, leaving Jayce to figure things out for himself.
He wanted to help Maya. She’d stepped into a frightening world, bravely walking away from an abusive relationship. If there was some way Jayce could take on all of her burdens, he would. Unfortunately, she didn’t know him…didn’t trust him. There was no way to help her that she would accept, unless he gave her a crappy job. No, she could do better. If she couldn’t land a better job on her own, he’d go out and find one for her.
Jayce ground his cigarette into the pavement with the toe of his boot. He went back inside to open his bar.
#
“And how are you doing?”
Maya blinked. She’d been daydreaming. Her kids were in the next room playing. She sat on a love seat in a small, sparsely decorated office. There was one bookshelf, a desk in the back, and an armchair across from the love seat with a coffee table in between. Maya hugged a warm mug of coffee to her chest as her family therapist strolled in and took the armchair. The door clicked shut behind her.
“I’m well,” she answered, “just worried for my children.”
“You’re consistent with the therapy. It’s obvious you’ve been working closely with them. Sophie is adapting beautifully. Mattie is doing better expressing his feelings. There’s still work to do, but you’re on the right track. You should be proud of yourself, Maya. Now I want to know how you are feeling.”
Dr. Stinson had a soothing voice. At thirty, she didn’t look much older than Maya, but, somehow, she managed to put off a motherly air.
“I feel…afraid. Lonely. Same as always.”
“The same? What about sad? The last time, you characterized your feelings as sad and lonely.”
Maya hugged herself. “I’m still sad, but more for my kids and what I’ve put them through. I don’t think I miss Damon so much anymore.”
“Afraid?”
“I’m—I’m starting a new job. I’ve never worked before.”
“New experiences can be scary. What’s the job?”
A clock on the wall behind Maya ticked steadily. She sat her coffee mug on the table. “Dancing.”
Dr. Stinson’s eyebrows went up. “Really? I’m assuming you mean exotic dancing?”
Maya nodded. She stared a
t her knees and swallowed down the bitter taste of shame.
“Is this something you want to do?” the doctor asked.
“It’s something I have to do. I have no job skills and no one else is hiring.”
“Nothing? Waitressing? Store clerk?”
“I’ve looked. I’ll keep looking. But I spoke to one of the girls who works at this place and she clears at least three hundred a night in tips on weekends.”
“Is that worth it?”
Maya looked up at her. “Don’t you think my children’s needs outweigh my personal dignity?”
“To a degree. What do you think?”
“I think I need to feed and clothe them. I need to quit mooching off my friends.”
Dr. Stinson studied her.
Maya looked down. “There’s a guy who owns a bar. He’d hire me out of pity, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to. I wouldn’t make as much. And since the bar opens at three, I’d never see my kids.”
“Well, Maya, I’m not going to judge you. I just want to make sure you’re healthy. If you try this job out and find it’s affecting your self-image in a negative way, I want you to talk to me about it. We’ll brainstorm some options.”
Maya’s self-image was already shit. She had trouble imagining it getting worse.
“So you said you’re feeling lonely. Have you given any thought to joining my Survivors of Domestic Abuse support group?”
“Yes.”
“It’s on Monday nights, right here in this building. We’d love to have you.”
Maya didn’t commit one way or the other. At the end of the session, she gathered up her children and drove home to Zoey’s house. It was 5:00 p.m. on Thursday, which meant Maya had a full twenty-four hours before starting a job that terrified her to her bones.
She fixed dinner for her kids and sat at the table with them and Zoey, eating without tasting, smiling without feeling. She and Zoey cleaned up the kitchen, and then Maya went to her room to steal a few moments with Zoey’s laptop. She found several online GED prep courses, clicked on one that was free, and downloaded a practice test. The very sight of it intimidated her.
She closed the laptop and stood in front of the full-length mirror. She stripped down to her underwear and examined herself. It wasn’t a bad body, maybe a little skinny. There was some tone and definition to her arms and legs. Nothing she could do about the three, pale stretch marks low on her abdomen. Her breasts were nothing to write home about. Then again, because they were on the small-side, they’d recovered well from breastfeeding.
The more she looked at herself, the more she saw mediocrity; possibly even less than mediocrity. No wonder Jayce hadn’t wanted to hire her. No wonder Damon had found her so unsatisfying.
“What are you doing, Maya?” he asked.
She stood in front of him in her panties with her hands covering her breasts.
“Covering up?” he laughed. “Like I haven’t seen those pathetic bumps you call breasts? Take down your fucking hands.”
She lowered her trembling hands.
“Get over here and suck me off.” He unfastened his jeans and pushed them down. He wasn’t even erect as he sat on the edge of the bed. All Maya could think was how her naked body hadn’t even aroused her husband.
She knelt and worked him with her tongue until he was hard in her mouth. Unfortunately, that was the best she could do. Though her jaws ached, she couldn’t give him what he needed.
At last, he jerked her head away by her hair. “You’re useless,” he said, pulling up his pants. “I’m going out.”
She stood and clung to him. “Where?”
“Find me a real woman.”
“No! No, Damon, please! I’ll do better, I swear. Let me try again, I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry!”
He slapped her, knocking her into the bed. “Get off me, bitch.”
He left and didn’t come back until the morning.
The memory made her sick. The thought of displaying her body in front of a bunch of men made her sick. The thought of those men sneering at her unimpressive body sent her running back to the laptop. She threw her nightgown on, sat on the edge of the bed, and started clicking answers on the practice test.
CHAPTER THREE
Jayce was pulling drinks for his Friday night crowd. By nine, the place was noisy and packed. Still, a hush passed over the room when the door flew open, letting in an icy blast followed by a flaming mad redhead.
Her name skipped among the crowd like stones over water. “Zoey,” the whispers echoed.
Zoey’s eyes narrowed as she turned her head toward poor Rick and Eddie at the back of the room. “Take my picture off the goddamn dart board, Rick, you piece of shit.”
“Yeah. Sorry, Zoey, sorry.” Rick hurried to obey her command.
Jayce showed no emotion. He kept his laughter on the inside. He’d noticed a long time ago that at least once a week, someone came in to drink away a bad encounter with Zoey. At first, he’d found the picture of her for his friend Eddie to throw darts at. Zoey had put the fear of God in him on several occasions, for no real reason. Nowadays, Jayce put it on the board just to watch Zoey have a conniption every time she walked in.
With Rick scurrying to do her bidding, Zoey’s baleful eyes made their way to Jayce, and his humor vanished. Her glare sent chills down his back, followed by waves of defensive anger. He hated the way she sparked his ire before she even said a word. She glided into the bar and past him down the hall, her eyes never leaving him. He handed over the taps to Janice and followed Zoey into his office.
“The fuck, Zoey. It’s Friday night—”
She whirled around and slapped him, stinging him into silence. He blinked away the stars and gaped at her. He was about to give her a piece of his mind and maybe have her arrested, when he saw tears in her eyes. And pain. He immediately thought of Kellen, who was away for the week. Had something happened to him? “Zoey, what’s wrong?” he asked, fear welling inside of him. Kellen was his brother in all but name.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to come here and ask you for a job? After you’d already told her you didn’t want to hire her, do you have any idea how much pride and fear she had to swallow to walk in here Monday?”
He blinked. “This is about Maya?”
Zoey rolled her eyes and fell into the chair across from his desk. He went and sat behind his desk. “You’re a fucking idiot,” she said.
“I’m an idiot? You want your best friend serving drinks to grabby alcoholics for a living?”
“Better than where she’s working now. Do you know where she’s working tonight, Jayce?”
“All I know is she said there was another place she could try.”
“Well that other place was Wild Side. So she’s there tonight dancing topless for a bunch of sleazy middle-aged guys trying to reclaim their youth.”
Her voice took on a distant quality as Jayce’s senses went into high alert. He felt nauseous and angry, then deeply sad and also ashamed. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t think she’d really do it. But now she’s there and I hate you!”
His knuckles were white. His jaw set. He looked up at Zoey and wanted to blame her. But this wasn’t her fault. “Let’s go get her,” he said.
Zoey’s anger vanished. “Really?”
“What do you mean, really? Come on.”
He stood, and she followed without arguing for once.
Jayce insisted on driving his truck. Saint Claire was a small city with a population just under forty thousand. For the most part it was a tidy town with a neat, historic Main Street and a well-planned business district. But just across the river was the part of town nobody liked to acknowledge.
Jayce drove down the broken highway and over the bridge. They passed adult stores and taverns and trailer parks. Wild Side shone like a garish beacon in a wasteland of destitution and immorality. Neon lights flashed around a sign that announced, “Girls, girls, girls
!”
Jayce pulled up by the front door and left the truck running. “Wait here,” he said to Zoey.
“I’m going in—”
“Wait here, goddammit!”
He’d stunned her long enough to get out of the truck. He walked in the front door and was immediately accosted by loud, bass-booming music. The lights were low, except where they shone on the pole dancers around the room. He scanned the area but didn’t see Maya anywhere. He pushed through the crowd to the bar.
A woman with only a tight, short skirt on was gathering drinks. He caught up with her. “I’m looking for Maya Bradley.”
“The new girl? I think she’s giving a lap dance in the back.” She jerked her head over her shoulder.
Jayce made his way back to a quieter area, where there were several, curtained off rooms. The first two curtains yielded nothing, but the third one he ripped back revealed Maya, topless, straddling some asshole with a handful of cash.
Jayce didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her off the guy.
“Hey, I paid for this dance!” the jerk shouted.
Jayce let go of Maya, grabbed the guy’s finger, and bent it back. He found that for most bullies, a simple gesture like this was more effective at scaring them into submission than the threat of blows. Jayce preferred not to brawl unless absolutely necessary. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jayce shouted over the music.
“Ah! Fuck! Nothing, man, nothing! Shit!”
Jayce released the asshole’s finger. He took off his coat and put it around a weeping Maya, who was standing there with her arms over her bare breasts, and led her back to the locker room. It was quieter, there. The lights were on. The bass rattled the walls, but nothing drowned out Maya’s sobs. She was cradling her ribs, and he realized he might have hurt her when he’d pulled her away. She’d still not fully healed from the broken rib her husband had given her a month ago.
“Get dressed,” he said. He wanted to beg her forgiveness. He wanted to ask her to let him help her, to let him give her everything he had, but words like that didn’t form easily for Jayce. All that he could get out was, “Get dressed and let’s get the fuck out of here.”