by Alexa Davis
Roger and Jordie had come up with a slogan that was both humorous and serious, even Alma chuckled when she typed up a copy of the flyer that read, "If you've got 99 problems, don't let your lawyer be one of them!". I wasn't sure I agreed with the approach, but since I couldn't come up with a reason why we shouldn't do it – and because I was still smarting from Roger's accusation – I went with the guys and threw myself into the process of attracting more business.
The three of us split up and took separate sections of town where we'd hand out the flyers and make contact with people who'd be likely to send clients our way. My stops were all of the bail bond places on Skid Row. I smiled and handed out flyers and cards as I made it clear that no case was too small and no problem too big for us to handle. The people in the bail bond offices nodded, took the flyers, and then went back to processing the bonds necessary for their clients to get out of jail.
After the fifth less-than-enthusiastic response, I felt let down and knew I needed to change my attitude. So, I drove by the fire station looking for my brother, Teddy. As usual, he was in the kitchen, whipping up dinner.
"Brookie!" he shouted. "Come here and help me stir this pot!"
"Teddy, you know I don't cook," I laughed.
"This isn't technically cooking," he shot back. "It's stirring, there's a difference. Believe me."
"Fine, whatever." I walked over and took the spoon out of his hand as he leaned in and kissed my cheek.
"It's good to see you, Sis," he smiled. "What brings you down to the good old 28?"
"I just wanted to check on you and see what you were doing," I said nonchalantly.
"Mom sent you?" he asked.
"No! I came of my own accord!" I laughed.
"Oooh, such big words for such a little girl!" he teased. "You'd think you were a lawyer or something! Oh wait, you are, aren't you?"
"You're such an ass," I said as I shifted my stance and hip bumped him hard enough to send him shuffling sideways a few steps.
"Watch it, little sis!" he laughed. "I'm working with hot stuff here!"
"What is it you're cooking, anyway?" I asked as I stuck the spoon into the red sauce bubbling on the stove and gave it a few stirs.
"Spaghetti Bolognese!" he said as he focused his attention on a sizzling skillet full of ground beef. The smell was intoxicating, but then, Teddy was an extraordinary cook. He'd been cooking since he was nine. My parents had tried to convince him to open a restaurant, but he'd said that having to do it professionally would take the fun out of something he enjoyed. So he joined the fire department and volunteered to cook for his crew. This made him the single most popular fire fighter in the department. Everyone wanted to work with Teddy Raines. But to me, he was just my annoyingly protective big brother.
"It smells amazing," I said as I continued to stir the sauce that I knew full well didn't need stirring. "You're a genius when it comes to food, Teddy."
"Aw, thanks, Sis," he smiled as he carefully browned the beef, adding a few more herbs and some garlic. "But really, why are you here?"
"Teddy, am I unreasonable?" I asked, barreling into the discussion.
"Define unreasonable," he said.
"I mean, do I have unrealistic expectations of men in my life?" I continued. "Do I crush men under the weight of my expectations?"
"Who fed you that bullshit?" he asked.
"Just someone who was making an observation about why I'm not able to maintain a relationship," I admitted. "I just can't tell if it's true or not."
"Sis, aside from the fact that you're my pesky little kid sister, you're not any more unreasonable than any other human being on the planet," he said. "You just have high expectations because you were raised by two extraordinary individuals who taught you to believe that you have value and worth."
"But does that make it impossible for me to maintain a relationship with a man?" I asked.
"It might," he said as he pulled the skillet off the stove and siphoned off the grease. "But is that such a bad thing? I mean, do you know how many women I've dated who have exceptionally low expectations?"
"No," I said. "How many?"
"Too many," he said as he carefully patted the meat with a paper towel, removing the last bits of grease. Watching Tommy cook was like watching a master painter or sculptor. He did every step with care and focus and that was the reason his food was so intensely delicious. "It's hard to respect a woman who lowers her standards to meet whatever anyone offers her. Gina was the first woman who didn't do that, you know?"
"Is that what you like about her? Her high expectations?" I asked.
"Hell yeah, I love that about her," he said as he carefully folded the brown seasoned beef into the pot I was stirring. The scent wafted upward and I felt dizzy as I inhaled. "She doesn't let me get away with anything, and that inspires me to aim higher and achieve more, but she loves me unconditionally, too. Her thing is that if I try and fail, it's a thousand times better than never trying at all."
"I did not know she was such a motivator," I said as I looked down into the pot and continued stirring.
"Why do you think I took the Lieutenant's exam last winter?" he asked.
"Gina put you up to that?"
"No, she simply told me that if I didn't try, I'd regret it. Because it was obvious to her that I had the skills, intelligence, and experience to make a great Lieutenant," he said. "How could I not try after that glowing appraisal?"
"But you're a total jackass." I grinned into the pot, bracing for what would come next.
"Indeed I am, Sis," he laughed. "Here, put this in the pot, will you?"
"You didn't noogie me," I said surprised that for once in his life my brother had not put me in a half-nelson and rubbed his knuckles into my head.
"I'm on duty," he grinned. "You'll get yours later. Why don't you stay for dinner?"
"I'd love to, but I need to get these flyers out and Mom's expecting me," I said.
"You don't want to see Jake," he said.
"Well, there's that," I nodded.
"He's engaged, you know," Teddy said.
"Yeah, I'd heard that."
"Then you two should be able to sit at opposite ends of the table and not start World War III," he said. "Stay and have dinner with me, please?"
"Hey, that wasn't my fault," I protested. "He started it and finished it. I was just dragged along for the ride."
"Sis, I know," Teddy said as he patted my shoulder. "You give as good as you get."
"Whatever," I grumbled as I stirred a little faster.
"Hey, hey, hey, easy on my sauce," he said as he took the spoon and lifted it to his lips. "Ahhh, the perfect sauce for the perfect noodles!"
"You are such a weirdo when it comes to food," I laughed.
"Never heard you complain about a meal I made," he replied as he turned and pulled the bread out of the oven. "Now, go call the crew to dinner, will you?"
#
"Be nice," Teddy whispered, as he set the steaming bowls of pasta down on the table and then sat next to me.
"I'll do my best," I said through gritted teeth as I watched Jake Conner take his seat on the other end of the table.
"Hey, Brooke," he called as he helped himself to leafy green salad. "Glad you could join us!"
"Are you now?" I asked and cried out as I felt Teddy's work boot connect with my ankle. "I mean, it's really nice to be here."
"How have you been?" Jake asked. "I hear the law firm is doing well."
"It's a challenge," I admitted. "We're trying to drum up more business right now."
"Hey, that's great!" he said.
"How are you doing?" I asked in a tone that was politer than I felt like being, but the threat of Teddy's boot kept me trying. "I hear you're engaged."
Half the heads at the table snapped up and looked at Jake waiting to hear how he would navigate this minefield.
"Yeah, can you believe it?" he said with a sheepish grin. "Cindy agreed to get hitched."
"No, I'm not sur
prised at all," I said as I twirled the thick linguini noodles with my fork. "You two were always good at making things happen together."
"Hey, what does that mean?" he said as he grabbed the tongs and put more pasta on his plate. "Pass the sauce?"
"It just means that the two of you have always worked well together," I said, then added, "Even when you weren't together."
"I never fucking cheated on you, Brooke, and you know it!" Jake exploded, tipping the bowl full of sauce as he shot up out of his seat and pounded on the table. "You know I never cheated!"
"Did I say you cheated?" I shouted.
"No, you used your lawyer skills and you implied it," he yelled. "You're always so judgmental and just below the surface where you think you'll never get caught! You've always hated Cindy, and you're still pissed that I moved on and found a way to be happy while you're still so damn...damn...damn miserable!"
I sat at the other end of the table staring at him. He had lashed out and stabbed my soft underbelly with his words. He was right, of course, but I didn't want anyone to know how much his words hurt. Teddy grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed tightly. I knew he knew what was going through my mind, and I also knew that I had to keep my temper under control. I was in his space, the place where he had to live and work. I couldn't afford to let loose and soothe my wounded ego by tearing Jake to pieces. I knew that he had actually cheated on me with Cindy, and he knew it, too. But to explain why I knew meant I'd have to admit that I wasn’t good enough to keep a man and that was something I'd rather have forgotten. Dredging it up here in the firehouse wouldn’t do either of us any good.
"Jake," I said calmly as I stared down at my plate. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we can't sit down and have a nice dinner. I'm sorry that you're still angry with me after all this time. And I'm sorry that you feel I used my lawyer skills to belittle you. I'm sorry."
The guys at the other end of the table gently punched Jake's shoulder and murmured that he should accept my apology. Teddy squeezed my hand harder, and I knew he was grateful that I was making the first move to be civil. Jake looked at the table for a long time before he looked up at me and said, "I don't accept your apology, Brooke. You're a ball-busting bitch and the reality is that you're never ever going to find a man who will love you the way I once loved you. You're going to spend your life being miserable because you are a small, mean, angry woman who likes to make strong men feel weak. So, fuck you."
And with that, Jake turned and stormed out into the truck bay. A couple of the guys followed him and I could hear them yelling at him, but the damage had been done. I looked at Teddy as the tears welled up in my eyes, then I crumpled up my napkin, threw it on the table, grabbed my purse off the counter, and ran out of the station crying. Teddy chased me, yelling my name, but I didn't want his sympathy or, worse, a lecture.
Maybe Jake was right. Maybe I was a miserable, mean woman who couldn't do anything right. I shoved the key into the ignition, cranked the engine, and peeled out of the drive. I had already decided that I needed a stiff drink and some time alone, so I headed straight for Dooley's over on 7th and Olive. If I couldn't fix my problems with words, then I would drown them with alcohol.
CHAPTER NINE
Dax
I looked down and saw Beck and his date grinding on the dance floor. He had a drink in one hand and the brunette's ass in the other. I shook my head and looked back at the computer on my desk as I heard the sound of a new message hitting my inbox.
I glanced at it, quickly hit delete, and then turned back to the club. Running this club had been a headache at first, but once I found Kesha Jackson to be the manager, the pressure had eased up and I'd been able to focus on the business that supported the club and all the other businesses I ran in the city.
Kesha had been a corner girl in the dealing business, but there was something about her that elevated her above the crowds that ran my corners. Maybe it was because while she ran her corner, she also finished high school. Maybe it was because I never had to worry about violence breaking out on her corner. Maybe it was simply because she was smarter and more resourceful than ninety percent of the people who worked for me. And, maybe it was because she reminded me of Riza.
Kesha hustled harder than any other corner kid, but the thing that made her really stand out was her ability to calm even the most strung out crack head. We called her the Dope Whisperer because no one ever fought her; in fact, they usually ended up doing whatever she told them to do. And, she always told the truth. I promoted her to Apex's manager knowing that she understood how to deal people, and she'd be able to sell the product without drawing attention.
The only problem I had was that Kesha had a crush on me. It was a delicate balance being honest about the fact that I didn't have any romantic inclinations toward her and not completely crushing her. She was a lithe woman who often wore her hair in a multi-colored Mohawk. She had the unique ability to both stand out from the crowd and completely disappear into it. I'd never seen a true chameleon in action before, and I appreciated the fact that this helped her fit in everywhere and nowhere.
I watched her hustle across the dance floor and intervene as Beck began to lift his date's skirt just a little high. I knew that this might lead to trouble, so I watched closely as Kesha smiled and tried to explain the rules to Beck, who knew them all too well. He flashed a lazy smile at her and then turned back to his date for a moment before he wound up and took a swing at the manager.
"Oh fuck," I muttered as I shot out of my chair and took the stairs down to the dance floor two at a time.
"You fucking cunt!" Beck yelled as Kesha held his hands behind his back and twisted one arm up toward his shoulder. "You stupid bitch! You can't tell me what to do! My brother owns this club and you answer to him!"
"That might be true, but I'm the manager of this club and it's my job to keep things on the up and up," she yelled over the loud electronic music that pulsed throughout the club. The dance floor crowd had pulled back and formed a circle around the scene, but true to form had also kept dancing as they waited to see what would happen.
"What the fuck are you doing, Beck?" I yelled over the music. "Have you lost your damn mind?"
"The fuck?" he shouted. "Get your fucking pit bull off of me, Dax!"
I looked at Kesha and nodded slightly and she let go of Beck's arms. He swung around, fists balled and ready to strike, but I grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the stairs to my office. "C'mon, you need to chill, man," I said before turning and looking his date. "You, too, come with me."
She followed dutifully as I practically dragged Beck up the stairs to my office. I shoved him inside before following and ushering the woman in behind my brother.
"I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing, but you are not going to do that shit in my club, little brother," I began.
"That stupid dyke running the bar is trouble," Beck muttered under his breath. Before he could say anything more, I grabbed him by the arm and slammed him face down on my desk.
"Her name is Kesha and she is a loyal and trusted employee," I growled in his ear. "You'll treat her as such or I will nail your ass to the wall, got it?"
"Fuck you, Dax," he yelled as I pressed his face against my desk. "You think you're such hot shit, but you're just a small time dealer who can't play in the big leagues."
"What the hell is wrong with you, Beck?" I asked then stopped and looked at him carefully. "Where did you get the stuff?"
"What stuff?" he said.
"Don't play stupid with me, Beck," I warned. "Where did you get the dope?"
Beck was an addict and as hard as I tried to keep the stuff away from him and keep him clean, he was like all addicts and found a way to feed the beast. I thought he'd been clean since the last trip to rehab, but was realizing now that he'd found a source and had blown his sobriety. I turned and looked at the girl.
"You have any idea where he got the stuff?" I asked.
"Huh, man? What stuff?" she said wit
h a glassy-eyed stare that let me know she was high, too.
"Goddamn it, Beck!" I swore. "You were sober for three months! Why did you blow it?"
"Fuck sober, it's highly overrated," he grumbled. "Let me up, man, you're fucking hurting me!"
I let go of his arm and smacked the top of his head with my hand. I was furious at him and worried that he was going to wind up dead in an alley somewhere. I couldn't save him if he wouldn't let me.
"You do realize that it's kind of hypocritical to be dealing the kind of junk you are and then busting me for using, don't you?" Beck asked as he rubbed the spot on his head where I'd smacked him. "My head hurts. Dammit, Dax!"
"Gram would be heartbroken," I said as I looked at him.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you've used that one before," he replied waving me off. "Don't you have a better emotional blackmail tool in your belt?"
"Dammit, Beck," I said as I threw up my hands and walked around the desk where I sunk into my chair. "I'm trying to help you. You can't behave that way in my club or I'm going to ban you from it. "
"Well, then you're gonna have to try harder, I guess," he grinned as he pulled the girl up off the couch in the corner and slipped a hand down the front of her dress. "'Cause I'm not buying what you're selling here unless it's gonna give me the high of my life. And, if you ban me, I'll just find another place to dance. I mean it's not like this place is special or anything. It's LA, after all. Dime a dozen."
I watched as Beck pulled open the door and guided the girl out into the hallway. He repeated his dime a dozen remark again and was rewarded with the girl's empty laugh.
Once they were gone, I rested my elbows on the desk, held my head in my hands, and tried to bring my heart rate back down to normal.
CHAPTER TEN
Brooke
I yanked open the door of Dooley's and marched up to the bar where I barked, "Gimme a whiskey and a beer back, now!"
Billy looked up from where he was pouring a beer and smiled as he yelled, "Hey, sunshine, what's got you so riled up?"