Trick

by Laramie Briscoe

  Hadley leans in, a smile on her face. “That’s it. Makes me wonder what I pay twenty-five bucks a lesson for.”

  “Son of a bitch I’m in the wrong business.”

  She laughs, and the sound is husky. “Aren’t we all?”

  I watch as she gathers Riley and their things up, holding the door open for the both of them as we exit the Brownstone.

  “Did you love it?” Riley asks me. Her face animated, a huge smile covering her cheeks.

  “I did,” I answer, and I realize it’s the truth. I loved her being so into it, and including me in something obviously very personal. “Next time I see you, you’ll probably be at Julliard or something.”

  She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my heart. “Mom says I have to practice and I have a long way to go.”

  “Your mom’s right. It’s never easy to be at the top of your game.”

  There’s a silence blanketing us now and I can read it as clearly as a billboard sign. None of us want to go. We don’t want to leave and no longer be a cohesive unit. There’s a rightness to the three of us hanging out.

  “Do you have plans for dinner?” I direct my question at Hadley so she doesn’t think I’m only asking for Riley’s benefit.

  She shakes her head. “We normally go out after piano lessons.”

  “Last time it was Taco Tuesday,” Riley’s little voice informs me.

  “It’s still Tuesday,” Hadley laughs. “The day your piano lesson is on doesn’t change.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be tacos,” I’m getting an idea in my head. “What about hamburgers and s’mores?”

  “What’s a s’more?”

  I let my jaw come unhinged and turn my gaze down. “Sprite, you don’t know what a s’more is?”

  “No.”

  I reach down, picking up her. It’s a move I hadn’t planned on, a reaction I didn’t want to censor. She comes willingly in my arms, perching herself on my side and putting her little hands on my bicep. “You’ve been neglected your whole life. We’re gonna remedy that right now, if your mom’s okay with me cooking.”

  Hadley’s eyeing the two of us. It’s an expression I can’t read. “I’m okay with it. You want us to meet you at your shop?”

  “Yeah, my apartment’s over it. You can park in the back. Follow me.”

  After getting Riley situated and making sure Hadley’s following me, I head back over the bridge, a huge fucking smile on my face.

  12

  Hadley

  You know when people tell you there are decisions in your life that have lasting repercussions? This is one of those decisions; I can feel the implications already weighing on my tired shoulders. Is what I’m doing right? Am I setting both myself and Riley up for a heartbreak that won’t ever heal? I’ve done it once before, I can live through it again. But I wonder - can she? Glancing back in my rearview mirror, I see my daughter with a huge smile on her face. She’s excited and looking forward to hanging out with Trick. I am too, and maybe that’s the scariest part of this whole situation.

  I follow close behind, not only with my car, but with eyes, as I watch him navigate traffic. There’s an air of authority about him. He doesn’t slouch like some guys who ride motorcycles. He sits up tall, resting a hand on his thigh when we come to a stop light. His feet plant fully on the ground and there’s a masculinity to the way he sits astride the seat; like he owns it. He could own me just as easily.

  A wave of lust hits me so hard, I moan out loud.

  “Are you okay, Mom?”

  I put my hand to my chest, trying to calm my thumping heart. I feel heat rising to my neck, and I know I’m red. “Fine, just making my mental to-do list.” God, the things I’d want to do to him, if ever given the chance. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve been a fucking nun for almost two years – that’s what the hell is wrong with me.

  The light changes to green, and he turns on his blinker, checking his blind spot. When he does, he waves to me. Even that move is sexy. Shit. Why did my libido pick this moment to wake up after being dormant for so long?

  The rest of the ride passes in a haze for me. I spend it telling myself to calm down, nothing can come of the situation I’m in. Once his hours are done, he’s gone. There’s no reason he’d want to stick around with a single mom and her kid. If I can convince myself of those words, it’ll be better for all of us involved.

  He motions for me to go around his building when we get there. I was prepared to park on the street again, but he leads me to the back and into an alleyway. There’s actual parking, and I’m really glad I don’t have to attempt to parallel it again. Off the back of the garage is a fenced in back yard – small, but nice – in the middle of the cityscape that surrounds us.

  As I get out and go back to help Riley out of her booster seat, he’s still sitting on his bike, watching us. Finally, he gives us both a grin.

  “It’s nice not to have to come home alone. It’s been a while since I’ve had guests.”

  Taking his sunglasses off, I watch as he hooks them into the neckline of his shirt. It’s a habit that’s undeniably sexy, because he does it without thinking. It’s one of those moves that for me, is so masculine, it makes my mouth water.

  “We have some time before the sun goes down,” he’s saying. “Wanna hang out until I can get the burgers on the grill? Then we can do s’mores?”

  “Can I have a hot dog?” Riley asks quietly from where she stands in front of me. She’s moved back so she can grab my hands and wrap them around her. She hates asking for things, a nasty little reminder from her dad.

  “You can have whatever you want,” he gives her a smile as he approaches and holds his arms out to her.

  My daughter, who doesn’t trust easily, goes right up in their strong hold. I’m speechless as I see the way he holds her on his hip. For someone who had no experience with kids, he’s doing an amazing job.

  “Let’s go upstairs and get everything going. You go on up.”

  He leads us to a set of stairs that lead up to what looks to be a loft apartment. I haven’t flirted in so many years, but I can feel his gaze on me. Going in front of him, I can’t help but give my ass a little shake. Maybe I should have taken care to look a little more put together this morning. Immediately I’m hit again with why he’s really a part of our lives. I know I’ve got to get my mind out of the gutter. I’ve got to stop projecting on him what I’ve been missing for so long. I glance back and see his eyes on my ass – or do I?

  “You have a cat?!” Riley almost shrieks as we enter his apartment and are greeted by a Tuxedo cat, lounging on the back of the couch in the direct sunlight of the window.

  He laughs, and even the sound of his laughter is damn sexy. I throw up a prayer to whatever deity is up there. Please don’t let me make a fool of myself, please don’t let me think things are there when they aren’t.

  “I think the cat kinda has me. He showed up one day about three months ago and never left.”

  That’s gonna be us if I can’t get my shit together. C’mon Hadley, take the hint.

  “What’s his name?” My daughter is all-in with this. She’s wanted a cat since we moved out into our own apartment, but our building doesn’t allow pets.

  “I’ve just been calling him Alfred because he looks like he’s wearing a suit.”

  “Alfred?” she scrunches her nose up.

  “She’s judging you for this cat’s name,” I laugh. It’s nice to see her have such a spontaneous reaction to something. Normally Riley is highly observant – much older than her years.

  “Yeah, I can tell.”

  And there’s a blush on his face.

  “Why are you blushing?” I laugh as I walk over, putting my fingers out to scratch the cat’s head. He purrs, turning over to get belly rubs.

  “I wanna pet him,” Riley pipes up. “But I hate the name Alfred.”

  “He doesn’t come when I call him that,” Trick admits, a sheepish look on his face as he puts Riley down on
the ground.

  She comes over, sitting on the couch and pats the spot beside her. The cat immediately abandons me and goes right for her. He doesn’t know he’s made a friend for life when he curls up at her side and starts purring even louder.

  “While you two get acquainted, your mom and I are going to get started on dinner.”

  Her attention is riveted by the black and white ball of fur; she pays us no attention as we head to the kitchen on the left side of the room. It gives me a chance to look around his apartment. The living room and kitchen are combined, with a short hall leading to the left. I imagine that’s where his bedroom and a bathroom are.

  “It’s small, but it’s mine,” he notices me looking around.

  “It’s not much smaller than mine and I have two bedrooms,” I admit. “I’m assuming this is one.”

  “Yeah,” he points down the hall to where I thought it would be. “Bathroom and bedroom are down the hall if you need them.”

  “Bathroom maybe,” I laugh. “Bedroom, probably not so much.”

  A look flashes in his eyes. “You sure about that?”

  The heat is back in my chest, moving up my neck. “Not at all,” is out of my mouth before I can pull the words back down my throat.

  For a long time we stare at one another, a conversation passing between us with no words. Finally, he licks his lips and moves closer, his tone low, only the two of us can hear. “At least we’re both fighting against the same pull, aren’t we?”

  I nod, because that’s all I can do. Knowing he feels it too is enough. For now.

  “Sprite,” he yells over to Riley. “How do you like your hot dog?

  “Burnt,” she answers as she runs, laughing when the cat chases her. She refuses to call him Alfred, she’s trying to think of a new name for him.

  We’re sitting in Trick’s backyard. I’m sipping on a bottle of Corona – the first I’ve had in years – Riley’s running around, and Trick’s manning the grill. If I close my eyes, I can imagine this is really my life. This is everything I’ve wanted and not been able to have for so long. This line of thinking is dangerous, but I’m letting myself go with it. Sometimes when you want something so bad, you can’t help it.

  The sky is getting darker, but it’s not quiet nighttime yet. There’s a pink and purple tinge to the clouds as they slowly move overhead. They’re a beautiful splash of color against the high buildings, and the smell of metal. Being in the middle of the city, I’d thought this backyard would be noisy, but it’s not. It’s like we’re in our own little world here. One where nothing can touch us, nothing can invade and put a stop to the nonsense flowing through my head.

  “How about you, Hadley? Hamburger? How do you want it cooked?”

  For a minute I’m taken back to a memory of a time not long ago. Back when I was married. For some reason, him asking me how I want my meat cooked flashes me back to a horrible night.

  “Hadley, stop eating like you grew up west of the bridge. We can’t keep coming to these expensive restaurants and you continue to order your steak burnt. It reeks of no upbringing.”

  I glare at Phillip, my husband. He knows I grew up west of the bridge. He knows my upbringing wasn’t to his standards, yet he continues to put me in these situations where I embarrass him. I refuse to change everything about myself. I’ve already given up the second piercing in my ear, the dark highlights I loved in my hair, the design degree I’d been so close to getting when we met. I just want to fucking eat a steak that’s not still bleeding.

  “She’ll have it medium rare,” he answers for me.

  “I’ll have it well done,” I put some steel in my voice hoping it makes the waiter listen to me. But we all know who has the money here, don’t we?

  “She’ll have it medium rare,” he reiterates. “And while you’re at it, bring a glass of the 1989 Chateau Haut-Brion with it.”

  I also fucking hate wine. Give me a beer, a bourbon, a shot of tequila any day. Wine isn’t my thing. But I love him, and regardless of the way he’s high-handed sometimes, I think he loves me. He only wants what’s best for me. I tell myself that every day. I’m just unsure if he really knows who I am, if he sees the real Hadley.

  “Hey,” Trick snaps his fingers in front of my face. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” I shake my head to clear the remnants of a marriage that I was never fully certain about. It hurt when he left – devastated me – to be honest. But the more time away from Phillip I have, I wonder if I hurt because my marriage, rather than Phillip, made me feel like I was second best, and not because of how much I truly loved him. That’s a thought I’ll keep to myself. “Medium well.”

  No judgement, no asking if I’m sure. Trick takes what I say, goes back to grilling/cooking our food. I breathe a sigh of relief and take a drink of my Corona. I’ve got this. I can make it in the world without breaking down. I’ll show Phillip exactly what he gave up and tossed aside.

  13

  Trick

  I want to know where Hadley went when I asked how she wanted her hamburger cooked. Her eyes had become unfocused, her breathing erratic, and the look on her face was one of anger, regret, and maybe a little disgust. One day she’ll trust me enough to tell me. I’ll make her trust me enough to tell me.

  “It’s done, ladies.”

  A few months ago, I put a picnic table out here after I got sick of eating inside by myself. As I’ve cooked, Hadley has taken it upon herself to set the table, turning us into a team. It’s nice to be a part of a team. I’ve never had that feeling before. Setting the burgers and hot dogs on the table, I watch as they come over from where they’ve been checking out the flowers the old owners of this place planted.

  They come over, and I pick Riley up since I’m unsure if she can comfortably navigate the table. With a hand to her back, I watch as she gets comfortable. “Want another?” I eye the almost empty Corona Hadley’s set in front of her.

  “Better not. It’s been a few years since I’ve even had one. It was nice, but I have to drive back tonight.”

  There’s a part of me aching to tell her to stay here. She’ll be safe if she does, and she can have one night off. One night where she doesn’t have to be everything to everyone else. She can let loose and be what she needs for herself. I can see a tension she carries in her shoulders, a weariness that she probably doesn’t even know she radiates. I’d like to give her a night of not having to worry about anyone but herself. Hell, I’d make her the star of the show.

  “I’m starving,” I reach in, grab the burger I made for myself, and go about dressing it as I watch mom and daughter prepare Riley’s hot dog.

  “Do you have any relish?” Hadley’s eyes lift up at me and I’m fucking dead. They’re so dark.

  “Upstairs,” I swallow roughly. “In the door of the fridge.”

  I’m getting up to already go grab it, but she shoos me down. “You did the cooking. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sorry Sprite, didn’t know you like relish.”

  “Mom says most kids don’t, but she craved it when she was pregnant with me.”

  Riley is so matter-of-fact; I can’t help but grin widely at her. “Relish is good on hot dogs. Maybe one day we can go see the Reds play, and you can have a ballpark hot dog. Would you like that? They have relish, and brown mustard, and ketchup.”

  Her eyes are wide, and I wonder what the fuck I’m doing, filling her head with ideas that’ll probably never happen. As soon as these hours are done, they’re probably going to drop me like a bad habit.

  “Got it,” I hear Hadley coming down the stairs. Turning around, I watch as she navigates them, not scared that they’re a little further apart than most. I built them, and I have a long stride. As she takes them one at a time, her tits bounce in the t-shirt she’s wearing, and I wonder if that’s what they’d look like as she straddled me. Fuck me, I’ve gotta stop thinking about her like this.

  I’ve always been the kind of guy who wants what he can’t have – and Hadle
y – she should be totally fucking off-limits for me.

  “How do you make them?”

  “You don’t know how to make a s’more and you’ve never had one? Hadley, what are you teaching this child?” I give them both a mock glare.

  It’s finally dark enough and the temperature has dropped about ten degrees. Cool enough that I was able to get a fire going in the fire pit. We’re not freezing, but we’re not burning up. It’s almost fucking perfect. S’mores are a favorite of mine, so I always have the ingredients around to make them.

  “Obviously not the ways of the world according to Trick,” she teases, the dimple showing up in her cheek again.

  “You both have a lot to learn when it comes to the ways of my world. Don’t worry, I’m a good teacher.”

  Hadley inhales deeply, speaking softly. “That’s kinda what I’m afraid of.”

  I don’t acknowledge I heard her, because I don’t think she wants me to. We’re both literally playing with fire, and in the end, one or all is going to get burned. It’s inevitable. The way I see her staring at me, the way I’m staring back at her. Through her shirt I can see her nipples are hard, and I know it’s not because of the temperature. If she looked close enough, she could see my dick is just as hard. Off-limits obviously means arousing as fuck to me.

  “Alright,” I hold up the marshmallow I put on a stick to Riley. “Hold this over the flame and let it get nice and toasted, burnt if you want. When it’s done, we’ll stick it in between this chocolate and a graham cracker. That’s a s’more.”

  “It’s good,” Hadley reassures her. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

  I grip my hand over her small one to help her hold it steady. Her look of concentration reminds me of Hadley and I can’t keep the smile off my face. “You want it toasted or burnt?”

  “I think I’d like it burnt,” she looks at me, her lips pursed together. “It’s how I like my hot dog.”

  “Your logic is sound,” I nod. “So if you want it burnt, we can do it the fun way. Let’s lower it here, and let it catch on fire.”