Page 8 of Break for Me

“If you’re sure you don’t want anything — a drink —I need to get back to work,” Trista said.

“I’ll try to stay out of your way,” I said and smiled at her again.

I waited for her to wander off and go about her business before I found an empty booth against the back wall to plant myself in for the rest of the night.

“A date?” Memphis asked. “Really?”

“Can’t just snatch her out of a crowded bar now, can I?” I whispered. “Gotta get her alone somehow.”

“You can’t just follow her outside when she leaves like a regular creep?”

“Right. About the same time that all these other people file out of the bars for the night and fill all the sidewalks on their drunken walks home,” I said.

“So, what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to watch her, Memphis.”

“Normally, I’d comment on how boring that sounds. But I could see that girl’s ass from here and I imagine you’ll have a fine time.”

“Was there jealousy in that tone, sweet pea?” I asked. Just to be an asshole.

“Keep dreaming, Jersey Boy.”

* * *

I sat in that booth until my ass was numb and I heard the little bartender shout that it was closing time. I spent most of that time listening to Memphis chatter on about some show she was watching on TV and how the main character reminded her of someone she’d known in school, but I focused on the people in the room with me. I enjoyed people watching most of the time so it wasn’t a difficult few hours. Our little menace to society was interesting to watch in person. She didn’t shy away from being touched by strangers if there was something that she could gain from it. She didn’t shy away from flirting with anyone if there was money on the line. Men, women. Old, young. Everybody in this building was fair game. And unless someone managed to walk up directly behind her while she was retrieving drinks, she was shockingly aware of her surroundings. She watched everyone around her, but it wasn’t just because she was a people person who enjoyed company. There was a buried apprehension in her movements. The only time that tension became apparent outwardly across her body was when she had to venture closer to the other female employee. And when she walked by me. She tried real hard to act like she wasn’t keeping an eye on me, but I made no effort at all to hide the fact that I was watching every move she made. I waited until most of the crowd was shifting out through the door before I got up to follow along, but where everyone else tripped their way down the sidewalk or stumbled into vehicles stopping along the curb to pick them up, I leaned back against the wall and waited. I pulled the pack of cigarettes from my pocket and the lighter from another. I was not a smoker, but sometimes the disgusting little sticks were a useful tool in a job like this. I stayed under the awning just beside the door where I could stay out of the rain that pounded the sidewalk and the road relentlessly in massive sheets that didn’t allow for visibility beyond a few feet.

Trista came out the door a few minutes after the last of the patrons had vacated the space under the awning that covered the entrance. She looked down the street in the direction away from me first and hadn’t noticed I was there at all initially.

“Shit,” she mumbled quietly at the rain before she looked around and spotted me. Her whole body noticeably stiffened, but she recovered well enough to offer me a tiny smile before she pulled her phone from her pocket.

“Need a ride?” I asked, forcing my body to take another drag from the cigarette.

“Um,” she said and looked up and down the street again. “No. Mama used to tell me it wasn’t safe to get into vehicles with strange men.”

I smiled. “Sounds like a smart woman.”

“Were you waiting on me?” She asked. Her shoulders tightened and she forced herself to stare right back at my face while she waited for my answer.

I wiggled my cigarette slightly in front of her. “Just smoking.”

“You can’t do two things at once? Smoke and walk?”

“It’s raining,” I said, unable to withhold the smile over her sass.

“And — what? You’ll melt if you get wet?”

“Will you?” I asked.

She looked beyond relieved when the massive ginger bartender opened the door and glanced between the two of us. When he looked back to her, her whole face shifted. The ridiculous attitude that she’d tossed directly at me disappeared in a matter of seconds. Wiped clean and replaced by the helpless, pleading, wide-eyed stare of a girl who felt like she was in danger. It worked beautifully. That monster-sized human glared right back at me after that.

“You need a ride?” He asked Trista.

Motherfucker.

“Yes, please,” she squeaked out, like I’d stood out here and held a gun right in her face.

“That went well,” Memphis said in my ear while I watched the pair rush out into the rain.

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