Bruno was leaning against the trunk of Phillipe’s car. His two goons were nearby sharing a smoke. Phillipe wasn’t sure if they were the same two as last time. He was never sure just how many of these big-muscled strong-and-silent types Bruno had working for him.
“Not tonight, Bruno. It was a long shift and I have plans tomorrow. Why don’t you head in the staff door? Coraline was looking for company tonight.”
“That’s funny. You sure you don’t have time to talk? I’m trying to pay you, Phillipe.”
“Another time. Please. I really want to go home and sleep.”
“Fine. But I’m not going to be polite forever.”
“Bruno, is it really smart to threaten someone into working for you in a position like this?”
“You trying to tell me how to run my business?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I guess I’m too tired to be smart tonight. Why are you leaning on my car, anyway? You’re going to ruin those pants.”
“Always the considerate one. We’ll talk again real soon.”
Phillipe waved as he got in the car. He watched in the mirror as Bruno took his time lighting a cigarette before moving out of the way. Phillipe waited until he was clear before he even started the car. He backed out, careful to keep his speed slow and casual until he got out on the street and out of sight of Bruno, then he high-tailed it for home.
He was dumping his pockets on the side table before he even thought about checking his phone again. He saw the ‘New Messages’ notification on the screen and cursed under his breath. A few taps on the screen revealed Brigid’s messages.
We’re on our way out. Text you when I get home.
Home safe. Have a good night at work.
Headed for bed. Good night.
He smiled at the phone and quickly tapped out a message of his own. Good morning. I’ll see you at the café for lunch.
He shut off his phone, peeled off his shirt, and headed for the bathroom. He wanted a hot shower and then he was going to sleep until he had to get up to meet Brigid.
Chapter 7
The whole ride home Amber had been pestering Brigid about Phillipe: did Brigid like him? Had she ever seen him without his shirt? Was he nice? What was he into? Did he have a girlfriend? Was he into girls? Thinking back on it the next morning as she brushed her hair, Brigid had to wonder if it would have been better or worse to just come out and say that she and Phillipe were dating.
Worse, she decided. She would have been asking me all sorts of questions about kissing him and if we’d slept together yet. And she’d likely let something slip to Patrick. Not likely, definitely.
Keeping things quiet made sense, at least for now. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling for him, and she wasn’t sure how he really felt about her. They were really still in the testing-the-waters stage of their relationship. They had lots of time to decide if they were going to back off and just be friends, or if it was serious. And if it was serious they could figure out how and when to tell Patrick.
Feeling better about the situation, she grabbed her purse and headed for the bus.
Phillipe parked on the street in front of the little café. When he and Patrick went out to eat they hit fast food places, or a pub for wings or ribs. They never went to these little coffee shops with cinnamon buns and lattes and hipsters sitting in arm chairs. Not that there weren’t hipsters at the pubs too, or that he had anything against hipsters.
This café at least had more than just pastry and he ordered a bowl of soup and some garlic bread with his coffee. He found a table for two where he could see the door, set his phone on the table next to his bowl, and started on his lunch.
He’d been a few minutes early but as the minutes continued to tick by and there was no sign of her, and no text message or phone call from her, he started to worry.
They started harmlessly enough, as worries went: family emergency, bad traffic, stuck behind an accident, got in an accident. And then the worries got more personal: decided not to come, decided to break up with him …
He picked up his phone, ready to call her when she breezed in the door. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail but the wind had blown wisps of it loose around her face. Her cheeks were rosy and her expression one of concern. When she spotted him, she smiled and hurried over.
“I’m sorry. The bus was running late today and apparently my phone didn’t charge properly last night.”
“Too drunk to plug it in right?”
“I was not that drunk. I’m going to order something. Be right back.”
He smiled. She was always like this, a breathless whirlwind, and it excited him in more ways than one. “It was nice to see you last night,” he said when she returned. “Even if it was just for a moment. Did you and your friends have fun?”
“Sure. Yeah. It was nice.”
He frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Hmm? Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you’ve got this ‘don’t ask me anything I won’t answer straight’ tone of voice right now.”
She smiled. “I’m just tired. I’m not used to being out all night.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“Hey, if this is the story you want to go with, there’s only so hard I can push. I’ll believe you if you want me to, though.”
She sighed. “I saw you before I got into line. I saw those girls, too.”
“Worst part of the job,” he said. He knew exactly what she’d seen, and why she’d gone to line up without coming to talk to him. There was nothing to hide so he told her exactly what was going on. “Happens way too often. If guys get frisky with the bartender we toss them out, but we can’t kick girls out of the line for pawing at us. They don’t even leave Michael alone and he’s got a wedding band.”
“I don’t know how to feel about this.”
“I do. I hate them. I want to shove their asses to the concrete, hard, or toss them onto the street. I do that, I’ll lose my job, and I need that job. So, I deal with it, even though it leaves me tense and angry, and ready to shift and just send them all scattering.” He sighed. “I can imagine it left you feeling a little worried.”
“We haven’t been dating long. I didn’t really know much about your job, except that you were a bouncer. I didn’t know this sort of thing happened. And then I saw it and thought …” she blushed.
“You thought I was taking favors in exchange for letting girls in the door.”
She nodded.
“If I could keep them off me I would, in a heartbeat. I’m not letting them get any closer than I have to. I have never accepted a favor from a girl in the line, or a girl already in the club, or a girl working at the club. Ever. And I don’t plan to start now.”
“Oh.”
He took her hand. “You don’t have to like it. I don’t like it.”
“Okay. That makes me feel a little better. I just – I was wearing a knee-length skirt. I’m not exactly a sexy person.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“I’ve got enough confidence to agree with you on that, but I’m not sexy.”
He dropped his voice to a whisper. “That’s not how I think of you. Trust me. I’d take you home right now but we’ve only been dating a week.”
“Oh.”
Just then her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and said, “I have to take this. Excuse me.”
He was glad for the interruption. Things were starting to get heated, and he wasn’t sure he could calm down with her sitting there looking beautiful and vulnerable and absolutely sexy no matter what she thought of herself. He focused on his food while she hovered near the door, talking softly on her phone. He glanced up at her once or twice, noting the worried look on her face.
When she returned to the table he asked, “Bad news?”
“Yeah. Looks like I’ll be busing to school for a while.”
“Something wrong with your car?”
“Yeah, I can no longer
put gas in it.”
“Why don’t you get the fuel line repaired?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the fuel line,” she snapped. “I can’t afford the gas. I’m not working right now because of school and Mom and Dad give me a little bit for basic expenses but something just came up and it’s going to eat up basically all of my savings.”
“How important is this emergency expense?”
“Very important. It’s not a problem. I can deal with the bus, for now. I don’t know what I’m going to do next time though.”
“Next time?”
“Hmm? Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I’m sure this will all be straightened out by next time.” She forced a smile. “Just a cost increase that I wasn’t expecting, and at a bad time too. I’ll just get a student loan. It’s only one year, maybe two. Once I’m out of school and working it won’t take me that long to pay it off.”
“If you find a job right away. Look, how much do you need?”
“Phil, it’s fine. I’ll make this work.”
“I live alone, have a good job, and minimal expenses. Why don’t I loan you the money and you can pay me back? I won’t charge you interest.”
“I can’t ask you for money like this. Like you said, we’ve only been dating a week.”
“You’re not asking, I’m offering. How much?”
She sighed. “A couple hundred. Look, I didn’t want to tell anyone. My parents would freak out.”
“Then let me help you. I don’t mind. At least it will buy you enough time to figure out something long term. We’ll finish lunch and then we’ll go take care of it. Okay?” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
“Okay.”
That evening Coraline tried to corner Phillipe in the back room at the club. She was wearing a top that was a little more revealing than her normal work clothes. “You’re making my job a lot harder,” he said when she asked his opinion of her outfit.
“Going to have trouble concentrating?” she purred, playing with the collar of her shirt.
“No, I’m going to be throwing more guys out because you’re inviting attention from them.”
“It’s not their attention I want.”
“Look somewhere else, Coraline. I already told you, I’m not interested.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Look, things have changed since we last talked, all right? I just started seeing someone and …”
“And it sounds like an excuse. You did tell me you weren’t interested in a relationship at all, didn’t you?”
“This is different. I’ve known her a long time.”
“Uh-huh. Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am.” She left, her hips swaying more than normal.
He shook his head and got ready for work.
Sunday night was busier than usual for that day of the week and by the end of the shift Phillipe was starting to feel an ache in his lower back and shoulders. The weekend had been quiet, thankfully, and even with Coraline showing off skin, they hadn’t had to throw anyone out. The weather was mild but windy. Only a rainy night could really slow down an otherwise busy shift and they’d been lucky the last few weeks.
After the shift, Coraline kept asking for his help with different tidying up tasks and he kept shunting the jobs to others with the excuse that he was busy and that he needed to hurry and leave early.
“Running home to your imaginary girlfriend?” she asked at one point. “You know, I can keep you company better than your imagination can.” She reached for him but he stepped back. She pouted. “I know you’d love it,” she said.
“I’m not interested, stop asking, stop flirting.”
The pout disappeared, replaced by something that was nearly a scowl. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”
“You haven’t seen rude yet,” he said. “But I’m losing my patience with this whole game. I’m. Not. Interested.”
“Okay, okay. Sheesh.” She marched off with a flip of her hair and Phillipe sighed.
At least that is over.
Brigid hadn’t seen Philip in a few days, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Honestly, she hadn’t really stopped thinking about him in years but now the thoughts were more frequent and she found herself staring into space, imagining him with his shirt off and his arms tight around her when she should have been doing homework, or paying attention to the road.
Fortunately with her classes and Patrick’s work schedule, it hadn’t been difficult to avoid her brother since she and Phillipe had started dating. Tonight would be different, however. Tonight there was a mid-month pack meeting. She did as much homework as she could before her mom called for her, then joined her family by the front door.
Patrick was staring at his phone, the others were juggling dishes and trying to get their shoes on. “Here,” Brigid said, scooping the pie out of her mother’s arms. “I’ve got that.”
“Thanks.” She finished getting her shoe on, then took the pie back. “Is everyone ready?”
“I think that’s everything,” Christopher said.
As they got in the van, Katherine said, “I don’t know about the neighborhood though. Are you going to be safe there?”
“Oh yeah,” Michelle said. “It’s only a few blocks from work. I can walk when I have a day shift. I’d drive for an afternoon or evening shift, just so I don’t have to walk home in the dark. It’s safe enough but you don’t want to do something stupid. And it’s not that far from the pack hall, not any further than our house.”
“What isn’t that far?” Brigid said.
“Oh, I found an apartment,” Michelle said. “Me and Kimmy are going to split the rent.”
“Can I have your room?” Brigid asked.
“Yours is the same size.”
“I know, just seems like the normal thing to say.”
“Brat.”
“Love me?”
“Never.”
In the front seat, Katherine and Christopher smiled at their daughters’ bickering. In the back, Patrick put his headphones on and turned up his music so he wouldn’t have to listen at all.
Brigid was working on homework when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, then answered when she saw Phillipe’s name. “Hey!”
“Hi. How’s your homework going?”
“Are you looking in my windows?”
“You’re always doing homework.”
“True. It’s going fine. How’s work?”
“Boring. Hey, remember how I was having that car trouble and didn’t want to use that shop by the college?”
“Yeah. Hard to forget the day we started dating.”
“Are you counting that as our first date?”
“Maybe. Your car?”
“Right. Finally got it into the mechanic but it won’t be ready until tomorrow and I just got called in for work tonight. I can take the bus to work but I can’t bus home, nothing is running at that time.”
“Why not call Patrick?”
“I did. He’s working a closing tonight and an opening tomorrow. He has to sleep. He can’t come get me or he’ll be dead tomorrow, and they’re already hounding him at work for being sluggish.”
“Damn video games.”
“He knows he has work. He doesn’t have to stay up that late.”
“Try telling him that. I know it doesn’t work when my parents say it.”
“I’m starting to sound like your parents?”
“A little. Don’t worry, it’s not a bad thing.”
I don’t think Patrick would agree with you.
“So you need a ride home from work?” she went on.
“If it’s not too much trouble. There are couches here. I can always crash until the busses start up again.”
“No, it’s not trouble. Just let me know the time and where to pick you up.”
Phillipe rubbed his hands over his face. It had been a long shift. Now that they were halfway through December, the weather was firmly i
nto sweater mode and he and the other bouncers had black jackets with the club logo on the back and ‘bouncer’ embroidered on the shoulder. The girls in line were more eager to get in because it was legging weather and none of them were wearing leggings to go dancing at the club and their pawing was making Phillipe restless.
Still, other than the unwanted attention, both from outside the club and inside it, it had been a quiet shift. They were getting close to Christmas and he was expecting the number of run-ins to increase for the next two weeks or so. Most of the seasonal depression drinkers went to quieter bars to get pass-out drunk, leaving Phillipe to deal with the party guys and the predators.
He helped shut the place down for the night, keeping ten feet between him and Coraline, except when it was unavoidable, and even then he didn’t speak to her. She was still watching him, still winking and licking her lip and trying to catch his eye. Even with Michael running interference he knew it was only a matter of time before he had to turn her down hard and probably cause a scene.
With the work done, they headed for the back room. “Where’s your car?” Michael asked.
“Shop. A fan belt, and something else. Nothing big, just a nuisance. I pick it up in the morning.”
“Lucky, it could have been worse. Need a ride?”
“Nah, it’s taken care of.”
“Then I’m heading home. Night.”
“Night, Michael.” He hung his work jacket in his locker and pulled out the old, beaten-up leather one that Brock had bought him for Christmas one year. They did a Secret Santa exchange every year and everyone had a forty-to-fifty-dollar limit, except Brock. He was allowed to spend ten times that, if he wanted, and everyone, including Brock, agreed that was fair. The first time he’d pulled Brock’s name he’d panicked, but Remy had assured him that Brock would be fine with the smaller gift Phillipe could afford. And he had been.
Phillipe was wrapped up in his thoughts as he was getting ready and paying attention to his surroundings so he didn’t notice Coraline until she was a foot away. He frowned.
“I’m on my way out. Don’t want to keep my ride waiting.”
Phillipe Page 7