react, Mimi lets go and slides into her car. She’s flustered and so pretty that I don’t want to let her go. I want to drag her back inside and borrow the bastards’ playroom. But she deserves better than a quickie between two doors. So I raise the handle of the umbrella and lean over to brush her lips with mine.
She smiles, starts her car, and says “Good night, David.”
She closes the car door, and I watch her pull away with a stupid grin on my face. Yeah, she likes me! I wish I had someone to high five. I miss Lisa and Brian. Slider’s okay, but he keeps his cards much too close to the vest. Poor guy—that must have become second nature with his undercover assignment.
After she’s done her last tour, I walk Suzy to her car. Then I patiently wait for a possible new blonde to do her number for what’s left of the Saturday-night crowd. She’s pretty good actually. She manages to perk up the interest of some old-timers who usually have the attention span of a goldfish. When she’s done, she follows Slider upstairs.
It’s time for Sally to go home.
“He’s with her?” Sally asks when we reach her car.
I raise an eyebrow because I’m not sure what she’s asking.
“The blond bitch, the one he’s auditioning as a replacement for Kitten,” she says, sounding exasperated. “That’s his ex. She’s trying to get him back.”
“I think you’re pretty safe. As far as I can tell, the man’s nuts about you. Every time you go on stage, he grinds his teeth so hard I’m afraid he’s gonna break his jaw!”
The sad look vanishes from her face, and she smiles as though I’ve just made her day. She gets settled in her car and pulls on my jacket to make me lean over. When I do, she gives me a kiss, a light brush on the corner of the lips.
“You’re a sweet man, David,” she says before pushing me out of the way of the car door. “If I was a smart woman, I would go after you.”
“And if you weren’t spoken for, I’d let you, sweetheart!”
My answer makes her laughs as she closes the door.
If I were a smart man, I would go after her. Hooking up with Sally would be less complicated than going after Mimi, but what do I know about her anyway? Maybe Sally’s saddled with worse than a junkie sister and a kid nephew. When I walk back into the club, Slider’s standing by the door and looks at me funny.
“What was that about?” he asks.
“That was Sally thanking me for telling her not to worry about your ex applying for the job,” I say lightly.
Slider frowns. “How did she find out?” he mutters more to himself.
Women talk . I want to say that, but he knows it better than I do.
A few hours later, I’m happy they do. At nine in the morning, my phone rings and jolts me awake. There’s a young boy in me who has yet to deal with his fear of middle-of-the-night calls. His fears aren’t unreasonable. Those calls never bring good news. I break out in a cold sweat before I realize it’s not the middle of the night for people on a normal schedule.
“Yes,” I grumble, trying to sound civilized.
“David, it’s Pat.”
My mind is absolutely blank, then I remember. Patricia, the nurse, the hospital. “Josette?” I ask.
“Yes, about an hour ago. Her sister’s a wreck,” she says apologetically. “The kid gave me your number. He said you had told him to call if he ever needed you.”
“You did good, Patricia. Thank you for calling. I’ll be right over.”
She gives me the room number and tells me they’ll wait for me before they take Josette down to the morgue.
On the drive there, my heart goes out to both of them. What a wreck I would be if I lost Lisa or Brian. And Toussaint, I never got around to asking about his father. At least he has Mimi. How weird it will be for him to live with the reminder of what his mother could have been if she hadn’t been a junkie. Probably as weird as it is for me to look at my uncle Anthony and know what my father would
She smiles, starts her car, and says “Good night, David.”
She closes the car door, and I watch her pull away with a stupid grin on my face. Yeah, she likes me! I wish I had someone to high five. I miss Lisa and Brian. Slider’s okay, but he keeps his cards much too close to the vest. Poor guy—that must have become second nature with his undercover assignment.
After she’s done her last tour, I walk Suzy to her car. Then I patiently wait for a possible new blonde to do her number for what’s left of the Saturday-night crowd. She’s pretty good actually. She manages to perk up the interest of some old-timers who usually have the attention span of a goldfish. When she’s done, she follows Slider upstairs.
It’s time for Sally to go home.
“He’s with her?” Sally asks when we reach her car.
I raise an eyebrow because I’m not sure what she’s asking.
“The blond bitch, the one he’s auditioning as a replacement for Kitten,” she says, sounding exasperated. “That’s his ex. She’s trying to get him back.”
“I think you’re pretty safe. As far as I can tell, the man’s nuts about you. Every time you go on stage, he grinds his teeth so hard I’m afraid he’s gonna break his jaw!”
The sad look vanishes from her face, and she smiles as though I’ve just made her day. She gets settled in her car and pulls on my jacket to make me lean over. When I do, she gives me a kiss, a light brush on the corner of the lips.
“You’re a sweet man, David,” she says before pushing me out of the way of the car door. “If I was a smart woman, I would go after you.”
“And if you weren’t spoken for, I’d let you, sweetheart!”
My answer makes her laughs as she closes the door.
If I were a smart man, I would go after her. Hooking up with Sally would be less complicated than going after Mimi, but what do I know about her anyway? Maybe Sally’s saddled with worse than a junkie sister and a kid nephew. When I walk back into the club, Slider’s standing by the door and looks at me funny.
“What was that about?” he asks.
“That was Sally thanking me for telling her not to worry about your ex applying for the job,” I say lightly.
Slider frowns. “How did she find out?” he mutters more to himself.
Women talk . I want to say that, but he knows it better than I do.
A few hours later, I’m happy they do. At nine in the morning, my phone rings and jolts me awake. There’s a young boy in me who has yet to deal with his fear of middle-of-the-night calls. His fears aren’t unreasonable. Those calls never bring good news. I break out in a cold sweat before I realize it’s not the middle of the night for people on a normal schedule.
“Yes,” I grumble, trying to sound civilized.
“David, it’s Pat.”
My mind is absolutely blank, then I remember. Patricia, the nurse, the hospital. “Josette?” I ask.
“Yes, about an hour ago. Her sister’s a wreck,” she says apologetically. “The kid gave me your number. He said you had told him to call if he ever needed you.”
“You did good, Patricia. Thank you for calling. I’ll be right over.”
She gives me the room number and tells me they’ll wait for me before they take Josette down to the morgue.
On the drive there, my heart goes out to both of them. What a wreck I would be if I lost Lisa or Brian. And Toussaint, I never got around to asking about his father. At least he has Mimi. How weird it will be for him to live with the reminder of what his mother could have been if she hadn’t been a junkie. Probably as weird as it is for me to look at my uncle Anthony and know what my father would
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