by I. T. Lucas
“Scottish.” He said it with an accent.
She was a sucker for foreign accents, especially Scottish. “It’s a good name. It suits you.”
He nodded in agreement.
“I’ll go check on your steak.”
He nodded again.
Not a man of many words.
When he was done with his meal, Brundar rose to his feet, put cash into the padded folder she’d handed him, and walked outside without saying a word to her.
Spectrum or not, the guy definitely needed help with his social skills.
Unfortunately, she was in no position to offer him or anyone else help. Not until she resolved the situation with Shawn.
As her shift drew to an end, Callie got nervous.
Was he going to be there?
Waiting for her?
God, she hoped he was.
Brundar was such a mystery. The man she’d remembered from the club was self-assured and dominant in a way that had resonated with her on a primitive wavelength of sexual attraction.
Maybe that was why she’d suppressed the memory of him? At the time she’d still thought of herself as a married woman who shouldn’t have naughty thoughts about another man.
Nothing had changed about his looks, he was still sinfully attractive, but he wasn’t projecting as much dominance as he had that night. In fact, she sensed vulnerability in him, and that resonated with another facet of her—the caretaker.
In short, she was confused as heck.
“Callie, are you just going to stand there? Go home!” Katharine slapped her arm.
Right. She’d zoned out in the middle of the employee break room, standing like a zombie with her purse in her hand and her jacket draped over her arm.
She smiled at her friend. “Goodnight, Kati.”
“You too. Are you okay to drive? If you’re not, I can take you home after my shift ends in an hour.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Yeah, just make sure you pay attention to the road and don’t zone out while driving.”
“I will.”
But not right away.
First, she would indulge in a rendezvous with the mysterious guy waiting for her on the patio.
Chapter 9: Brundar
Out on the patio, Brundar sat with his back to the other diners, thinking about Callie, or Calypso as he preferred to call her.
The two names represented two different aspects of her personality.
Not personas, she wasn’t pretending to be one thing and then another, they were more like modes she was switching between depending on the situation. Most people did it to some degree.
There was that saying about a perfect wife human males liked. A lady in the living room, a cook in the kitchen, and a harlot in bed, or something crass like that.
Maybe that was what he was observing.
But he had a feeling that Calypso’s demarcation lines were clearer and deeper. The partitions she erected between the different roles she assumed were thick and solid.
Not that he was such an expert on human emotions, but she was so different here from how she was at home. Yet another reason to free her of the asshole she’d married. Hopefully, Brundar could persuade her to leave the jerk. Otherwise he would have to kill him—and the clan’s penalty for murder was entombment.
Nevertheless, one way or another he was going to make sure Calypso was free.
Her time was running out.
He felt her the moment she stepped out on the patio, and turned around to look at her.
“Hi, you waited,” she said.
Brundar cast her a puzzled glance. “I said I would.”
“You did.”
He stood up and pulled out a chair for her.
“Thank you.” Calypso draped her jacket over the back of the chair and sat down. “But often enough people don’t mean what they say or change their minds.”
“Not me.”
She smiled. “No, I guess you don’t. With how little you say, I bet you mean every single word.”
“I do.”
Damnation. He was so used to talking in monosyllables that it was difficult for him to articulate his thoughts in complete sentences. He needed to do better than that if he wanted a sliver of a chance convincing Calypso to listen to him.
Looking at him expectedly, she was waiting for him to say something.
“Are you twenty-one yet?” He knew she was, but that was the first conversation starter that popped into his head.
“Yes. I turned twenty-one a couple of months after the incident.”
“Why didn’t you try again? Did I scare you away?”
Not that he would’ve allowed her inside the lower level even after she’d turned twenty-one. At Brundar’s prompting, Franco had changed the minimum age to twenty-eight for anyone seeking admission to the lower level. Another club in town had been involved in a case of minors using fake identification, and Brundar used it as an excuse to raise the age to one that would be more difficult to fake.
She shook her head. “No. It’s just that things came up and experimenting was the furthest thing from my mind.”
“So you didn’t go to other clubs either?”
“No. I dropped the whole thing. It was a silly idea to begin with.” She blushed and looked away.
“How about your husband? Didn’t he want to try again?” The last thing Brundar wanted was to hear about that jerk, but he needed her to start talking about her marriage.
Her cringe spoke louder than words. “Believe it or not, it was my idea, not his. He didn’t want to go that first time, and after what happened, I never mentioned it again.”
As with everything else in her life, Callie had shelved her needs and wants in the pursuit of marital peace. She must’ve been so frustrated, and not only sexually.
He leaned forward and clasped her hand, surprised again by the urge to do so. It had been the same the first time they’d met. When Calypso didn’t pull away, allowing him the small touch, it encouraged him to say something that was too personal for people who’d just met. “You can’t ignore your needs forever. It’s like letting a part of you wither away and die.”
Sucking in a breath, she leaned away from him. “It’s a choice, not a life necessity or a compulsion. I don’t have to have it.”
Her naïveté was endearing.
“Would you say homosexuality was a choice?”
Taken aback, Callie’s eyes widened. “Of course not. But it’s not the same.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Denying yourself because you think you should, or because others don’t understand it, is not going to make the need go away. As long as it is not harmful, emotionally or otherwise, there is nothing wrong with wanting something different with another consenting adult.”
Calypso crossed her arms over her chest. “Wow. I was under the impression that you have a problem expressing yourself, but evidently I was wrong. Did you have that speech memorized? Do you recite it to new club members?” She kept her voice low, casting worried glances at the people sitting next to them.
Her outburst didn’t offend him. Clearly, the subject was making her uncomfortable, and she was getting defensive.
Brundar leaned forward, making sure no one other than Calypso heard him. For her sake. Not his. “That’s not part of my job. Do I look like someone who makes people comfortable?”
Her smile was back. “No, you don’t. So what is your job? Are you the bouncer? The scary dude who throws undesirables out?”
“Sometimes, when those whose job it is are not available, or when the situation demands it. I’m not an employee of the club, I’m a member turned silent partner. It was an investment, a way to help out the owner stay afloat. Except, I find myself doing things I didn’t sign up for.”
Why was he telling her all that?
Her eyes were full of understanding. “Of course you do. I’m surprised you expected it to go differently.”
That was news to him. “Wha
t makes you say that?”
Uncrossing her arms, she leaned forward. “You’re the kind of guy that takes charge,” she said. “You can’t just let things go and wait for others to fix them. You either tell someone to do it and then verify it’s done, or do it yourself.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. I should have known I’d get involved. Instead of buying half of Franco’s business, I should’ve offered him a loan.”
“But you didn’t. Which means that subconsciously you wanted to change how he was doing things.”
“You’re a very smart young lady, Calypso. You figured me out.”
Chapter 10: Callie
Callie snorted. “Right.”
As if. She might have peeled away one layer out of a hundred. And the way he’d called her young lady, as if he was an old man and not a twenty- or thirty-something-old guy, was odd, but she liked it anyway.
Still, she knew her insight and his acknowledgment of it was no small achievement. Brundar wasn’t the type who let people get close to him.
“It’s true. I didn’t realize it until you spelled it out for me.”
She shrugged. “Glad I could help. Talking with others about things clarifies bothersome issues. While you’re too bogged down by the minutiae, you can’t see the big picture.”
“Smart girl. Do you know how smart you are?”
She wasn’t sure how she felt about him calling her a girl, but she liked the other part.
Well, she’d always gotten good grades, but book smart wasn’t life smart, as evidenced by her ill-fated marriage. “I don’t know about that. I did my share of dumb things. If I were so smart, I wouldn’t be in the mess I am in now.”
“Perhaps I can help. What is your minutiae, Calypso?”
A chuckle escaped her throat. “Mine is not a minutiae, it’s a bigutiae. Here, I invented a new word. Does that make me smart?”
Brundar didn’t laugh at her joke. Not even a tiny smile. What would it take for this guy to loosen up?
“Talk to me, Calypso.”
She was tempted. Yeah, he was a stranger, but in a way that was easier. She probably wouldn’t see him after tonight, and getting things off her chest might ease the vice constricting her lungs.
Taking a napkin, she wiped the table clean of a few drops of condensation. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems. I’m sure you have enough of your own.”
“No.”
Again with the one-word responses. “No what? You need to talk in complete sentences to me. I know you can.” Contrary to what she’d thought before, Brundar had proven that he had no speech impediment and no personality disorder. He was just a tight-lipped guy who was stingy with words.
“I don’t have any problems.”
“You see? That was a clear answer.”
One corner of his lips twitched in a smile. “Yes, teacher.”
Callie sighed. “I want to be.”
“What stopping you?”
“Not what, who. My husband.”
“You want me to beat him up?”
Lifting her eyes, she was prepared to answer with a joke, but Brundar looked dead serious.
Was he acting?
She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “If I said yes, you would. Wouldn’t you?”
“I always do as I say.”
“Good to know.” For some reason, his answer and the tone he’d used evoked a few erotic scenarios that had no place in this conversation.
Brundar’s nostrils flared, and he shifted in his chair.
Callie sniffed but detected nothing unusual. Not surprisingly, the steak house always smelled like steaks.
“What is it? What do you smell? Is it smoke? A few days ago, there was a brushfire nearby, and the wind carried the smell of smoke for miles.”
He shook his head. “Not that kind of fire. Do you want a drink?”
“Sure. Another whiskey for you? I’ll go get it.” She started to lift off the chair.
Brundar caught her hand and pulled her down. “You’re not working now, Calypso. Let others do their job.”
“They are my friends. I’d feel weird ordering drinks from them. And besides, they all know I’m married. There will be a few raised brows.”
“I’ll order the drinks, and you can introduce me as your cousin.”
Not a bad idea. That would kill two birds with one stone. Brundar would order them drinks, and she’d stop the rumors before they started.
“Where should I say you came from?”
Brundar spread his arms. “Scotland, of course,” he said with a lilt.
“God, I love your accent,” she husked.
Ignoring her comment, Brundar turned around and waved Kati over.
“Hello…” Kati looked from Brundar to Callie and back.
“Kati, meet my cousin Brundar.”
Kati smiled and offered her hand. “Nice to meet you, Brundar, cousin of Callie who she never told me about and should have.”
Callie rolled her eyes. Kati knew she wasn’t supposed to flirt with customers. Especially not this one.
“Nice to meet you.” Brundar didn’t take her hand.
Some people didn’t do handshakes—germophobes and the like.
Kati frowned and retracted her offered hand. “What can I get you, guys?”
“I’ll have an apple ginger, and Brundar will have Chivas, no ice. Right?” Her cheeks warmed as she realized her faux pas.
He nodded.
“I apologize for ordering for you,” she said after Kati had left. “I shouldn’t have done it. It’s a waitressing reflex.”
“You knew what I wanted, so why not?”
Why not? Because if she’d done something like that to Shawn, he would have thrown an anger tantrum.
“As long as it’s okay with you.”
“It is. Back to my offer. It still stands.”
“Thank you, but no. It won’t solve my problems. I need to get a divorce, that’s all.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Where to begin? And did she want to pour her heart out to this sexy stranger? Not really. He would think her weak. He would ask why she hadn’t left Shawn a long time ago.
Brundar wouldn’t understand.
Callie didn’t consider herself weak for staying, she considered herself strong. Quitters ran at the first sign of trouble, and Callie was no quitter.
But she wasn’t blind either.
All the effort in the world wasn’t going to fix what was wrong in her marriage because nothing and no one could change another person. Shawn was who he was and she couldn’t see herself enduring him for the rest of her life, or worse, having children with him.
Someone kill me now.
“Calypso?” Brundar snapped her out of her head.
“I’m sorry. I zoned out a little. I was thinking of how to answer that in a way that wouldn’t portray me as the victim.” She looked away. “I’m not weak, you know.”
He took her hand. “I know you aren’t.”
The sound of truth in his words was like a benediction, his hand offering comfort and support she hadn’t had in forever. Regrettably, a moment later he dropped her hand.
Fast.
Kati came back with the drinks.
“Apple ginger for Callie, and a Chivas no ice for Brundar.” She put down the drinks. “Anything else I can get you?”
“No.” Brundar’s one-word answer was delivered in such a commanding tone that Kati dropped her flirtatious smile and beat feet back inside.
“You don’t have to be so rude to people,” Callie blurted.
“I’m not rude. I’m efficient.”
“It’s not what you think that matters, it’s how your communication is perceived.”
“Don’t try to fix me, Calypso.”
Oh shit. Now she’d got him mad. Instinctively, Callie shrank back in her chair. She saw a flash of anger in his blue eyes, but it was gone in a split second.
“I hate to see you scared like that. Do
es that jerk you’re married to get violent with you? Does he hit you?”
She shook her head and grabbed a napkin. “No. But if I tell him I want a divorce he will.”
In the moment of strained silence that followed, Brundar took the napkin out of her hands and clasped them. “Trust your instincts, Calypso. You need to leave. The sooner the better. Don’t tell him your intentions. Go out the door and hide somewhere safe until the divorce is final.”
“There is nowhere safe,” she whispered. “Shawn knows that there are only two people I can turn to. My father and my friend Dawn. He’ll find me. But that’s not the worst part. If I go to either of them, I’d be putting them in danger. I’m afraid of what he’d do.” She looked into Brundar’s pale eyes. “I don’t know why I fear him so. Other than destroying our house he never hit me. And yet I expect the worst.”
“As I said before, trust your instincts. You need to run. I’ll help you. I’ll hide you and protect you until you’re free of him. You’d be safe with me.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why? Why would you do that for me? You don’t know me.” People didn’t just offer help out of the goodness of their heart. There was always a hidden agenda, an ulterior motive.
Brundar closed his eyes as if she was tormenting him. “I don’t know why, Calypso. But I know I’d protect you and shield you with all I have. And trust me when I say that there is no one in the world who can do a better job of it than me. That’s what I do best.”
“You’re a bodyguard?”
“Yes, that’s exactly who I am. The best there is.”
From anyone else, it would have sounded like boasting, but she knew that Brundar was just stating facts as he saw them.
“I need to think about it. I need to get an appointment with a lawyer, so I know what to expect. The problem is that Shawn monitors every penny I spend and tracks my every movement.” She lifted her phone from her pocket. “He has this tracked. And you know what? I don’t mind because when he knows where I am at all times, he has fewer reasons for exploding. Like now. He thinks I’m still working because the signal is coming from the steak house. That’s how I can sit here and talk to you without worrying.”
“You’ll have to leave your phone here while I take you to a friend of mine. Edna is a great attorney. She can answer all your questions. But if you want my opinion, you need to run first and do everything else later. The longer you stay, the more dangerous it is for you. Go to the bank, take all the cash you can, leave your credit cards and your phone at home and drive off. I’ll meet you somewhere where you can leave your car, and I’ll take you to a safe place. Edna will take care of the divorce papers. Clean exit.”