Leverage (The Mistaken Series)

by Nancy S Thompson

  She was right. I felt her essence all over my fingers as she slid them deep within her fold. And when she slipped me inside, all velvety and tight, she moaned and urged her body closer, her legs wider, my fingers deeper. I rubbed my finger in a slow circle over her nub, once, twice, three times, then immersed two fingers as far as they would go, just one thrust, but that’s all it took.

  “Oh God!” she moaned into the darkness.

  I didn’t make another move. I just lay there as her body trembled in its release. With one hand, she pulled me free, brought it to her mouth, and rubbed my slick fingers across her lips. Her other hand tugged at my waistband, popped the button, and unzipped my jeans. Cool fingers snaked inside my shorts, coiled around me, and squeezed. And that’s all it took for me, as well. I turned my face and moaned into my pillow. Katy giggled in satisfaction then removed her hand, scooted back, and turned over with a sigh.

  “Goodnight,” she said, her breathing almost instantaneously even as she slipped into sleep.

  I rolled onto my back and stared toward the ceiling. I raised my still damp fingers near my face. I couldn’t see them, but I could smell them—her—all over me.

  I slipped from bed and into the bathroom where I stood at the sink. I gazed into the mirror and sighed, shaking my head in disbelief, at both what had just happened and that I’d allowed it to yet again.

  I swore at my reflection in the mirror. “You’re a goddamn weak motherfucker.” But even still, there was the smallest of grins, and it grew wider by the second.

  CHAPTER 13

  Conner

  Wednesday night rolled around remarkably fast, and before I knew it, I was standing in the front corner at Rush Hour, my guitar slung over my shoulder, ready for my first gig ever, professional or otherwise. Earlier, I feared nerves might get the best of me, but I felt eerily calm as I plugged in my amp then tapped the mic.

  “Hey,” I said, testing the volume and addressing the noisy crowd. “How’s it goin’?” More than half turned to look. “I’m Conner Maguire.” I cleared my throat. “So…tell me if you know this one.”

  I started to strum and pick over the strings, and, eight bars in, the crowd quieted. Those who still had their backs to me turned around while the rest leaned back in their chairs. The girls smiled as they tapped their toes against the floor or their nails against their coffee mugs.

  “Yeah! Pearl Jam!” yelled a voice from halfway back, followed by scattered applause.

  The crowd seemed entertained as I moved through the song. I smiled at the few people who knew the lyrics well enough to sing along. When I finished, I took a step back from the mic with one last strum across the strings. Nearly everyone clapped; a few even whistled. After several more songs, people began to crowd outside the front windows and push their way into the already filled-to-capacity café. I’d never felt anything like it in my life, being the center of attention. It was intoxicating. Nova brought me water which I downed in one gulp then headed into my next song. It was received with similar enthusiasm.

  Five more songs in, I spied Katy back near the register. Strange that I hadn’t seen her come in or that she hadn’t made her presence known to me. With her arms folded over her chest, she watched the girls as they watched me. She seemed irritated by the audience and didn’t even notice me staring at her. In a huff, she turned and approached a smiling Nova as she watched me play. Nova spun around when Katy addressed her. I watched their lips move, even as I kept singing. They traded words back and forth, seemingly more heated with each exchange. A few people shushed them, but Nova and Katy ignored them as they took turns swapping barbs.

  I lost sight of them when I finished the song and people stood and milled around. Once I settled into another tune and people returned to their chairs, I searched the area where I last saw the girls. Nothing. But then, in a blur, Katy came flying through the open kitchen doorway, only to be stopped short by a yank to her elbow.

  Greg. What the fuck?

  Katy pulled free and spun to face Greg. She appeared angry at first. Then Greg bent closer and pointed his finger in warning, and Katy’s anger seemed to morph into anxiety. She wrapped both arms around herself, her hands jammed into her armpits as she flinched each time Greg’s finger jerked closer. It looked like Greg was warning Katy not to harass Nova. Katy was proving to be a jealous ex.

  Greg pulled back from Katy when Nova appeared at his side. Nova smiled as she spoke to both of them then looked at me, a slight nod to direct their attention my way. Katy dropped her chin, but Greg turned toward me, his eyes momentarily hard before relaxing into apathy. That look, it hit a nerve, but, caught up in my performance, I couldn’t give into it. With a final glance at Katy, then Nova, Greg charged off. Nova touched Katy’s shoulder but received a shrug-off before Katy turned and pushed through the dense crowd toward the front door, never once looking my way.

  Confused, I gazed back at Nova. She offered an apologetic smile then disappeared into the kitchen. I thought about chasing after Katy, but I didn’t want to react to her jealousy and give her the wrong idea—or jeopardize my job, so I remained on stage without skipping a beat.

  I finished my set with the same tunes I’d auditioned with the day before, plus a few others. The crowd applauded, the girls whistling and hooting. I bowed my head and said a silent prayer of thanks before stepping back to the mic.

  “Thank you,” I repeated until the lights dimmed and people turned to gather their things. I peeked at the time on my phone. “10:45? Holy shit.” It seemed like only a few minutes had passed since I’d started playing.

  A few stragglers congratulated me with slaps on the back while several girls slipped me phone numbers they’d scribbled across napkins. I spied Nova leaning back against the counter near the register. She had a smile on her face, almost smug, definitely satisfied, undoubtedly with my success. It had been her idea to audition after all. Greg appeared and tapped Nova on her shoulder. She waggled her fingers at me before following him back into the kitchen. A minute later, Garret, one of Nova’s co-workers, approached with his hand out.

  “Man, that was awesome!” he said with a smack against my shoulder.

  I bowed my head. “Thanks. You think Greg liked it?”

  “Oh, dude, he’d never let this place stay open late otherwise. You killed it!”

  “Awesome. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said then started to turn away.

  “Hey, um, do you think it would be okay if I stashed my amp in the back? It’s a lot to lug around, and since I’m coming right back tomorrow night…”

  “Oh, yeah, just toss everything in the storage closet near the back door,” he said.

  Toting the amp in one hand and a ring of coiled cables in the other, I passed through the galley and looked around, trying to decide which door was the closet. The one on the right was an office, Greg’s, I assumed, since I’d signed all my documents in there earlier. So I chose the one on the left and twisted the knob, pushing the door wide with my foot. But it wasn’t the closet. It was another office, and this one definitely was Greg’s.

  He sat behind an expensive-looking desk strewn with photos and a single file folder, which he slammed shut the instant he saw me enter, his brow high under that loose curl of black hair. “Mr. Maguire, don’t you knock?” he said in reprimand, and the two employees in the chairs opposite him sprang to their feet, one of them Nova, the other a guy I’d never met and barely registered before he charged from the room, nearly knocking me over. He was huge and had the most hideously flattened nose I’d ever seen.

  I stared at Greg, embarrassed. “Oh, crap, I’m sorry. I was just looking for the closet. Garret said I could stash my stuff in there.” I raised my burdened hands.

  “Oh,” Nova said as she pushed me back out the door. “Here, I’ll show you.” She closed the door and grabbed the cables from my hand. “Let me help. That thing looks heavy.”

  I sighed. “Fuck. Did I just blow it?”


  Nova opened the door in the farthest corner, the one right next to the door marked with a green exit sign. God, I’m such a dumb ass! Nova saw the expression on my face and chuckled. “Don’t worry about it,” she said with a wave. “You’re new. It was a rookie mistake. Greg was actually very pleased with your performance.”

  I set my amp down against the wall. Nova placed the cables on top. With a shake of my head, I looked down at her and dragged my hands over my face. “Sorry about Katy. She’s sorta my ex. Guess she’s having a hard time letting go.”

  She punched me in the arm. “I don’t blame her. I’d have a hard time, too, if it was me.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me back out. “Go home and enjoy your success, Conner.” With a bright smile, she gave me one more pat at the elbow and walked back to Greg’s office, scratching on the door before she entered, then closing it behind her.

  ***

  Thursday morning, my whole world changed. People called out and waved to me on my mad dash to class. And once I made it to the classroom and took my seat, students I didn’t know surrounded me. Fists were lifted to bump, and several girls asked for my number so they could text me theirs. Though a bit unnerving, I finally began to feel the cloak of infamy lift from my shoulders. I was no longer that guy whose best friend had leapt to his death, or the dude who’d gone nuts and was carted off to rehab.

  “All right, back to your seats,” chimed our professor.

  Everyone dispersed, but instead of sitting off by myself, as usual, all the seats around me were occupied. And once the professor started his lesson, the guy next to me leaned in.

  “Hey, man,” he whispered. “I’m Zack. Caught your set last night. Very impressive.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, my head sweeping between him and the teacher as I took notes.

  “So, you’re playing again tonight, right?”

  A quick nod and glance as I silently mouthed “Yep” in return.

  He smiled and bobbed his head. “Cool. We’ll be there.” He scratched out a few of his own notes then leaned in again. “Hey, if you’re up for it, after your gig, why don’t you come by my place. My roommate and I are having a party. Just a few friends, a small keg, tunes.” Zack slipped me a note with his off-campus address scrawled across it.

  I returned an unsure smirk and lifted the slip of paper. “Thanks.”

  Zack sat back in his seat and concentrated on the lecture.

  A similar scene played out in an afternoon class. Just about everywhere I went, there was someone who’d seen me play and would approach with his or her friends. After my last lecture, I stopped at the HUB, the student union, to grab a quick bite, warm up, and let the worst of the rain pass before I walked home.

  I plopped down into one of the big purple chairs by the fireplace in the main lounge and started to pull my laptop out of my backpack when Zack and a bunch of his friends came over. Those who’d been at the café the night before rehashed the evening’s events. A few of the girls flirted openly, and I flirted back, even writing my phone number in black Sharpie on the inside wrist of one girl. With a smile, she pulled it close to her chest, like a treasure.

  I sat there laughing at their jokes and discussing my playlist for tonight’s gig, when I caught sight of Katy lurking near the stairs. She had that same look she’d worn the night before at Rush Hour—angry, jealous, hurt. I hadn’t had the chance to talk to her about her visit to the café. When I got home last night, she was already asleep on the lumpy sofa, or at least pretended to be when I called out her name. Then she was gone before I left for class this morning. This was the first time we’d seen each other since yesterday. I excused myself and walked over to face her. She pushed her shoulder away from the wall and looked down at the floor as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “You spying on me?” I asked.

  Her head snapped up, her eyes heated and her brow drawn together. “You so high and mighty now, you think everyone is falling over themselves just to be near you?”

  I didn’t reply. I just stood there, glaring at her, resenting both her jealous attitude and her interference.

  She sighed and took a step back. “I went to Housing to request a refund. Remember?”

  “That’s all the way over at Schmitz Hall. What are you doing here?”

  “Well, I’m not spying on you; that’s for damn sure!”

  “You were last night, though, weren’t you? At Rush Hour?”

  “No!”

  “I saw you, Katy, and I don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in my business, jeopardizing my job with your jealous rant.”

  “Your job. Huh! You’re so clueless. You’ve no idea.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head then turned to walk away.

  But I grabbed her by the arm. “You have something to say? Spit it out. Otherwise, back the fuck off.”

  Katy yanked herself free, but her expression turned from angry to worried as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Just…watch yourself, all right?” She smiled halfheartedly, turned, and walked away.

  CHAPTER 14

  Conner

  My second night at Rush Hour was even better than the first. Greg was happy—more customers meant more sales—but the staff wasn’t so thrilled. It created more work for them, and they were forced to stay late. My apologies, however, were met with disdain when I bid each employee goodnight, all except Nova. She flitted to my side like a pixie as I carried my equipment back to the supply closet.

  “Ready?” she asked, her face aglow.

  “For what?” I replied.

  She performed a funky dance move and said, “To par-tay.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot. Um…look—”

  “You are so not backing out of this,” she said, her finger in my face.

  “Come on, Nova, it’s late, and I really—”

  “It’s eleven o’clock, you douche. You’re going. I promised Zack you’d be there. Now let’s go.” She twirled me around and shoved me toward the door. “Grab your guitar.”

  I did as she commanded. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

  “You’ve no idea,” she answered with a wicked smile.

  We arrived, damp and cold, at Zack’s, a converted loft just north of campus, but the place was so crammed with bodies, the temp inside felt welcoming.

  As I removed my leather jacket, I leaned down to Nova’s ear. “I thought he said just a few friends.”

  She beamed a mischievous grin. “Yeah well, Zack’s a popular guy. Come on, I’ll introduce you around.”

  Music by The Deftones pumped loud and furious throughout the wide open room, the bass so high, it thumped through my chest like a jackhammer. Nova dragged me from one group to another. People shook my hand or patted me on the back like we were old friends, and more than a few asked if I would play later.

  Nova had the same answer every time. “Give the man a chance to have a drink, would ya?” When we finally made it to the back where a makeshift bar had been set up, Nova turned and asked, “What’ll it be?”

  I examined the shelves and counter then opened a large, blue ice chest on the floor, pushing through the ice amidst a myriad of brown and green glass, searching for a bottle of water. Nothing. I slammed the lid shut and scanned the room. Every last person had either a bottle of beer or a red plastic Solo cup in their hand. The music suddenly became muffled, the bass crashing in muted waves over the tinny voices in the crowd. Beads of sweat popped across my forehead and slicked my hands. I felt a tugging at my sleeve and looked down into Nova’s gold and green eyes.

  “Did you hear me?” she asked. “I asked if you were okay.”

  I glanced around the room one more time then tried to concentrate on the freckles scattered across her nose. “Um…yeah,” I replied with a nod. “Sorry. I’m just… I haven’t gotten out much in the last couple months. That’s all.”

 
She signaled the guy behind the bar then retrieved the two red cups he’d placed on the counter. “Oh, well then…here’s to your reintroduction to society.” She held up one cup and pushed the other toward my chest. “Take it,” she insisted.

  My eyes slid from hers and moved across the crowd to the front door, ready to bolt, when suddenly, Zack appeared at my side, his face flush, his eyes glazed, and his grin huge. He clamped a hand at the back of my neck and relieved Nova of the cup of beer.

  “It’s the guest of honor!” he boomed as he shoved it into my hand. “Drink, bro!” He raised his cup and turned to clap another guy across the shoulders. “Come on, you fucks, a toast to the man of the hour! Booyah!” he howled, and the crowd echoed, “Booyah!” in return, their cups high before bringing them down to their lips.

  I stared at the celebrants with a stupid grin on my face, my beer stalled near my chin.

  “Come on, man, drink up!” Zack demanded as he tipped the cup to my mouth.

  The crowd began to chant. “Con-ner! Con-ner! Con-ner!”

  Nova sipped her beer and nodded her encouragement. I closed my eyes and tilted the cup back, downing its contents in three swallows then raising the empty vessel high. Cheers exploded all around, and hands whacked me along the back and shoulders.

  “Bartender, get this man another,” Zack ordered right before the crowd descended.

  Several more cups were pressed into my hands, and before long, my head started to spin. With a wave of my hand, I refused a few offers of shots, elevating my beer in explanation. When I started to wobble, Nova escorted me toward the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows and pushed me into a chair she ordered vacated. One of the windows was vented, and cool, fresh air poured in over my face, which felt as red as the empty cup in my hand.

  People I’d already been introduced to, but whose names I’d forgotten, came and went as the hour passed. It wasn’t long before my guitar was thrust into my hands. With a clearing shake of my head, I strummed the strings and fiddled with the tuning keys. Another guy I recognized pulled a chair up close and fixed a bass guitar on his knee. Then a dude with some bongos joined us on the floor near our feet.