Just a City Boy (Midnight Train Series) (6 page)

Chapter Twelve

I’d barely gotten to work on time. Ray had shouted at me like he was on his fifth highball of whiskey, and I’d stood up to him like my daddy was standing at my shoulder. Ray knew about my “insurance.” I trusted he was smart enough not to push me too hard. So I stood there, feeling like the blast from his shouts was blowing my curls back like a stiff wind.

When he’d died down a bit, I got my back up.

“If you’re finished making a complete ass of yourself, I have to get ready for work,” I’d said in a firm voice. He hadn’t raised a hand to me. Yet. But I hoped he was getting the message that I was through with this. Because I sensed things could escalate. I wasn’t buying his food for him. I wasn’t letting him crash on my couch. I sure as HELL was not going to let him bully me like that. I applied my makeup with shaking hands. They hadn’t shaken like this since a couple nights ago when those gang bangers had been ogling me in my sexy waitress outfit. Ha! Those uniforms were boxier than Aunt Mabel’s church shoes. No, the only attractive thing about me in that dress was my vulnerability; I was certain that’s what the Mickey Cobras were drooling over.

I wore my tennis shoes and carried my silver heels in my big purse. I could swear my biceps were getting bigger every day just from lugging my bag around.

I made it to work just in time to change shoes and compose myself before I started my set.

There were several regulars in the crowd; I loved those repeat customers. Mr. Woo, the Bartlett couple, Ms. Bailey and her son Bruce, the Haskell twins and the Myers. But I also loved when new people came in and heard me for the first time. I loved to see that light in their eyes when they were surprised at the voice that came out of my small frame.

I began with “The Street Where You Live”, and let my voice fill the air.

I knew there was something special about my voice. My parents had always told me so, and my preacher, and the school choir director, and my little Texas town pageant manager. But none of the colleges had taken the bait. I’d sent in YouTube videos and applications and nothing helped. I’d gotten a couple offers from the big schools for half-off tuition. That was nice and all, but if I was going to go to college, I needed a full ride. I didn’t have the money to go full-time and buy books and pay for lunches etc. So I sang here in “Lonely Nights” and I waited. I hoped and I believed. Someday someone would discover me, and my life was going to change like that! I snapped my fingers and startled Andy at the piano. I grinned, embarrassed, and he started up the next song.

Just the Two of Us
, one of my favorites, rolled out of me soulfully, and I sang with gusto, dreaming about the time when I would have someone to sing to at night. I looked out into the crowd, (the light array on this song wasn’t too bad for seeing the audience), and I smiled at the faces I recognized. I sang toward Matt at the bar, and Kipper and Tracy serving drinks, and projected my voice out to the back of the place, where I imagined my voice was floating upward and outward waiting to be pounced upon by an eager music critic. I performed several more songs, loving every minute until the posture of the new bouncer caught me off guard. He looked familiar. I sang
Georgia
and kept glancing at the bouncer. It couldn’t be. Could it? What were the odds? It wasn’t him, was it? Was it? I sang on, for the first time in months eager for the end of the set instead of dreading it. I had to meet this guy before he left. I wanted to see his face!

I ended the song, bowed gracefully in my kick-ass green dress, and blew a couple kisses. The bouncer still hadn’t turned around so I could see his face. I bowed again and walked off the dais, shedding my rock star persona as I tripped around chairs and tables, and headed toward the back of the lounge. Lots of people stopped me and touched my arm, my hand, my back, congratulating and thanking me for my set. I smiled and nodded, winked, squeezed hands, trailed a hand behind me in the wake of people, and still headed for the exit, where the man stood with his back to the room, carding patrons and holding the velvet rope open or closed.

I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned.

I gasped happily.

It was him!

“Zackory!” I said. Without thinking, I grasped him in a huge hug, and he shyly patted me awkwardly on the back.

“It’s just Zack,” he said in a soft voice.

“Zackory, I can’t believe my good luck. I never thought I’d see you again!” I ignored him and gushed. I kept touching his sleeve, patting him as if verifying his reality. “So you met Brenda then? She’s the best! I love her!” I couldn’t believe it. He was right there, looking all yummy with his tight black T-shirt and big biceps and freshly shaved and cleaned up self. I realized I needed to back off a little. He was working after all, and technically I was too. Then I realized how I had shot myself in the foot with my dumb rule. No dating coworkers. Crap! How was I going to get out of this one? I took another step back and looked around, wondering if Harley had clocked in yet.

Harley was the reason I made up that rule. He lusted after me big-time, and my rule was the best way to get him to stop coming on to me. Even knowing I had had a boyfriend for part of the time did nothing to dissuade him. Harley wasn’t his real name. His real name was Tom Corbin, but he drove a Harley and thus, his nickname. He was handsome enough, in an unkempt, smelly, beer gut kind of way. Something about him was off, though Brenda swore up and down he was harmless. Her policy was to never hire troublemakers, but I didn’t know…Harley seemed to slip by the radar. Or he had her snowed so good with his humble farm boy act.

I didn’t see him yet, so I relaxed.

Zack had gone back to monitoring the door. I felt pretty conspicuous standing there in my dress and shoes and costume jewelry, so I gave Zack a little wave when he glanced at me and I slinked back toward the dais. I had a glass of lemon water with a shot of honey that Matt gave me. I took a sip and made eye contact with Andy. It was time to get started on another set.

Brenda ran a classy joint. She envisioned the speakeasies of the 20s, only with a classic twist of the chic designs from the 40s and 50s. But her clientele tended toward the older generation with a smattering of hipsters. Brenda’s dream was to eventually hire a big band on a permanent basis, and not just one night a week, and do a live radio show for Sirius XM, but for the moment, she was satisfied with my weekend performances. I had to ignore the fact that she seemed to have a soft spot for people down on their luck, because that meant to her I was some kind of project.

I looked over at Matt. He was a single dad. His four year old son had Autism. He tended bar here on the weekends, and also hired himself out for corporate events. His mom was able to help out with sitting since his wife had run off to Vegas with another man. My gaze drifted across the room, landing on Tracy who dodged a reaching hand from dirty old McAllister. Tracy was attending Wayne County Community College with a little scholarship. She needed the tip money to pay for her books. She always looked hungry to me.

I walked up the dais and headed for the mic. As Andy trilled a little something on the piano, I spied Kipper making her way to a table with a tray of martinis. Kipper was married with three kids. Her husband was battling cancer.

As I began singing the opening to
That’s the Way I’ve Always Heard it Should Be
by Carly Simon, I thought about everybody’s story. The make believe stories I concocted about people on the train, and the real life stories of everyone here. Some I knew about, and others I didn’t.

Carly’s sad lyrics moved me, and I let a little of that emotion come out. I wanted to know Zack’s story. My mama would say I was chasing again, but in this case, I couldn’t help it. Not only did I want to know Zack’s backstory, I wanted to be a part of his new story. I wanted to be a part of something that made him smile.

I held out the last note and closed my eyes, feeling Andy’s notes shimmer up through the soles of my shoes.

I smiled at the applause, and noticed Zack’s back, smooth T-shirt stretched across his muscles. There wasn’t anyone coming in at the moment, but he still didn’t turn to look at me.

Lonely Nights was free of dry ice smoke, thudding bass, and cacophony of restless people. The lounge was more laid back and hopefully didn’t have the potential to trigger an attack for Zack. I supposed that’s why he was turned away from the crowd. And me.

Chapter Thirteen

Zack kept his back to her.

He was thankful for this job. It couldn’t have come at a better time
.
But he couldn’t quite believe his luck, as yet to be determined if it was good or bad. What cosmic mathematical forces brought him to the exact place she worked on the weekends?

The woman he’d mugged, rescued, held in his arms, and then ran from, all in the space of a couple hours. He’d alternately wanted to see her again, and hoped she’d forget him with the sun’s first rays.

Now her voice was stealing across his body in waves of rich velvet and silk. She sang like fire was in her veins, and her voice had the ability to strum his heart and make him feel things he thought were lost to him since he came back.

He was embarrassed that the bartender and the waitress had predicted he would stand and gape at her like an idiot. Of course they couldn’t know he had a history with her…up until she’d found him and hugged him like they were old friends, instead of a perp and his vic. Now everyone in the joint knew they at least knew each other. Lauren had acted like they were close personal friends.

He ran his hands through his thick brown hair and waited for more customers to show up. Every particle of him wanted to turn and watch her perform. She could sing, but she could also command the room. She made eye contact with her audience, she held out a delicate hand pleading for their attention, for their adoration, for their souls.

He wasn’t going to turn. It was bad enough that the vision of her walking onstage in that green dress would haunt him for the rest of his life. She’d entered a glow of light, and it caught the jewelry around her neck, just something simple that glinted and brought attention to the slenderness of her neck and the graceful curve of her shoulders. Jewels sparked at her ears. The dress fluttered about her knees, accentuating her gorgeous legs that the tall spiky silver heels caused to flex. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

A group of kids walked up. He checked IDs and waved them in, noticing the smell of alcohol on one or two of them. Their IDs checked out, but they had the attitudes of the untried when it came to drinking and partying. He’d have to keep a look out for them in case he had to keep them in line.

Zack listened to her sing and banter with the crowd, and all too soon, her gig was over. He still had another couple hours before his replacement was supposed to spell him. Someone named Harley.

He heard her thank the crowd to riotous clapping and he couldn’t help but smile. That’s kind of how she was…bringing smiles and joy to everyone around her, except maybe gangbangers. Speaking of gangbangers, he heard the sound of rising chaos coming from the audience. He made his way through the tables and chairs, legs and arms, bodies, and found the source of the raucous noise.

One of the guys from the loud group was shoving another one. They were exchanging profanities and it wouldn’t be long before they exchanged punches as well. He forced his way through the ring of people, and stood between them.

“That’s enough, enough!” he said loud enough to get everyone’s attention. He grabbed shirt fronts with both hands, keeping them out of reach of each other. “Take yourselves outside. You can finish this fifty feet from the entrance,” he said. They pushed and yanked at his hands and wrists, but he had them tight. “Or you can do this the hard way and make me earn my first paycheck. I may or may not call the police for backup,” he shouted when they began yelling. He gave them each a hard pull that rocked their heads a bit. “You were just leaving, right?” he asked them.

They nodded, cowed by his strength and convinced he meant what he said.

He let them go but walked between them, satisfied they were calm enough not to cause any more trouble inside. He didn’t care what they did outside the building. He escorted them out, and once the cool night air hit his face, he realized he’d been sweating profusely. The air felt great on his skin so he calmed down for a minute.

He felt a hand on his arm again.

He twisted, ready for trouble.

Lauren saw his face and backed away, startled. Her heel caught on one of the rubber mats at the entrance and she began to fall backwards. It was a bad angle, but he jumped forward, trying to catch her before she hit the ground. He grabbed her hand, but the laws of physics were insurmountable and they both ended up on the hard floor where she banged the back of her head. He lay on top of her, worried she had a concussion.

He scrambled off and put his hand beneath her head. Her eyes fluttered at him.

“Hey, did you black out?” he asked in his soft voice.

“No, I just see stars,” she said, trying to blink them away.

He brought her up with a muscled arm under her shoulders.

“Here, sit up a bit,” he said. By then, Matt was bringing a towel and glass of water, and Kipper had come up to them too. Surrounding customers saw that she was mostly okay and wandered back to their tables. Kipper squatted down.

“You know how to make an exit, don’t you?” Kipper asked her playfully. Even so, Zack could see concern etching her face. He could tell she was a mother by the way she inspected Lauren’s head. “Okay, how many fingers am I holding up?” Kipper asked Lauren.

Lauren blushed and pushed her hand away. “I’m fine, y’all just let me up,” she complained.

Kipper helped Zack pull her up to her feet.

“I guess that’s what I get for wearing fancy shoes tonight,” she said and twisted this way and that to try and brush dirt off the back of her dress.

Zack stepped back, suddenly feeling awkward at her nearness and watching her hands move over her body in places he could only dream about.

Kipper helped her straighten her dress straps and tuck and primp until she looked good as new.

“Thanks sugar, you can get back to waitin’ tables,” Lauren told her with a smile. Then she turned to him. “Well Zackory, it seems like you are still trying to get me to the hospital,” she told him flippantly. Zack cringed. He knew she was joking, or at least, he thought she was joking.

He smiled at her.

“I promise you I’m not,” he said. He grabbed the back of his neck and kind of shrugged at her.

She curled a lock of hair around her finger and brought it to her lips absently. Her left foot rotated on its toe as she continued to stare at him.

“You uh,” he paused and looked over at the stage area. “Sounded really good out there. Makes me wish I’d stayed at Jack’s the other night,” he said.

Lauren put a hand out to him. She touched his arm lightly.

“You did what you had to do. Are you okay here?” she kind of changed the subject and gestured around Lonely Nights. “You know,” she raised her eyebrows. “The lights are low, crowd of people…”she looked around. Zack thought she was trying to see the room through his eyes.

He looked too, noticing little things like the sounds of chairs scraping across polished cement, the hum of people talking, clinking glasses and piano music. It was a normal place.

He hated himself at that moment and shut down.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said coldly and turned away.