Blackbird Page 6

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, rising to give her a kiss. “Let’s get out of here. I’m beat.”

  “Aren’t we going to dinner?”

  Dinner was the last thing he wanted to do, he wanted to go home and collapse after everything that had happened in the last few days, but he didn’t want to displease Billie. He didn’t need her more prickly than she already was, and besides, he needed to talk to her. The conversation was going to be uncomfortable enough and perhaps if they were in a public place she’d be more inclined to see reason.

  “Dinner, yes of course.”

  ***

  Robert sat across from Billie as she chattered away about her girl’s night out the night before and pushed her salad around on her plate without really taking a bite. He only half listened as he thought about everything else. He thought of his mother, his brothers, he even made a mental note of everything that was wrong with the restaurant they were eating in, and everything that was right for that matter. It never hurt to keep an eye on your competition. All of these things flitted through his mind, but for some unknown reason, he mostly thought of Chelle.

  “Robert, are you hearing me?”

  He was caught. “Sorry,” he said, not even attempting to lie. He was too drained. “Rough day. I was thinking of my mom.”

  “Oh.” Billie stopped chattering for the first time since they’d sat down and for a moment Robert thought she was going to say something kind. Offer him a word of comfort or ask him how he was dealing with it. “She’s probably asleep by now. They put people to bed early in places like that, don’t they?”

  The idea of his mother being ‘put to bed’ like a child made him angry. “Yes,” he said, knowing he couldn’t even hope to have a conversation about this with her. There were obviously going to be some things he’d have to carry alone. As the wedding inched closer he had a feeling there were going to be a lot of things he carried alone in this marriage. “I suppose they do.”

  “Anyway, I think the new uniforms are working out well. I think the girls get bigger tips this way, you know, show a little skin, it’s good for business.”

  “I got rid of them,” he said cutting straight to the chase.

  Billie’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped open in horror like he’d just told her she had some deadly disease from which she’d never recover. “Excuse me?”

  “I got rid of them, Billie. I want people to come to Cole’s because they enjoy the food and the drinks, not to gawk at my female staff. I think it makes them uncomfortable, and there are enough weirdoes out there walking around, I don’t want to attract them to the place.”

  Billie took a deep breath and began very slowly, as if having to explain something to someone that was beneath her. “Now, Robert. I’m a woman, I picked them out. The girls like them. All except for Chelle. You talk about these shirts like they make the place a strip club. It’s just a little back. If you undermine me now nobody will take me seriously down the road. We have to be a united front. It sets a tone.”

  Robert squared his shoulders and leaned forward. She was right about setting a tone and he decided he was going to do that right here and now. “Billie, I don’t want those uniforms, so that means they’re gone.”

  “Robert I…”

  “Did you know that Chelle went home early two nights ago? I suspect not because you’d be singing a different song about the shirts if you had. She can’t wear them. She’s…”

  “She’s just being difficult,” Billie interjected, cutting him off.

  Right then and there he decided it might be best if he kept the reason why to himself. Even though the whole bar had seen, and it wasn’t exactly a secret, if Billie lacked the sensitivity to ask why, he wasn’t going to waste his breath explaining it to her. “She’s not. She’s right. And I’ve already switched back to the tee shirts. That’s that, Billie. When it comes to Cole’s and all the other bars there can only be one boss, and that’s me.”

  Angry and embarrassed Billie looked like she was about to cry. He had only meant to straighten things out, not humiliate her. Now he was wondering if he’d been too harsh. This was the woman he was going to marry after all. “Hey,” he said, “I’m sorry if that come out wrong. It’s just that my father built these places from the ground up. He ran things a certain way and I want to keep running things that way.”

  Billie didn’t look up. “It’s fine, Robert. At least now I know. You’ve got every right to run things the way you see fit.”

  He reached across the table for her hand, intending to ease some of the tension, but she pulled away, placing it on her lap. “Hey, you want to go look at the house after this? I know you’ve been dying to show me what you did to the bedroom. We could swing by there on our way back.”

  Billie looked up at him, smiling finally. A smile that Robert could see was forced. “Tomorrow ok? I promised my sister I’d watch a movie with her later. It’s the last of our sisterly nights at home, you know?”

  It was. They hadn’t lived together at all in the time they’d dated. Robert had asked but Billie had explained she didn’t want to live with someone until after they were married. Robert secretly thought she simply had it too good at home and was not in a hurry to grow up, but he bit his tongue and went along to make her happy. He decided tonight she needed some space, and frankly, so did he. He didn’t care about the house anyway, and there was somewhere else he wanted an excuse to go back to. “Ok,” he said.

  ***

  The car ride back to Billie’s place had been mostly spent in deathly cold silence. Robert found he didn’t care. He dropped her off and headed straight back to the bar, and to the one thing that had occupied his thoughts all day. Chelle.

  It was after closing time and all the patrons were long since gone, having stumbled out into the night. Chelle and Rick were putting up chairs and cleaning glasses. “Hey boss man,” Rick said noticing him. “What are you doing back here?”

  Rick was jovial little fella. No more than five foot four he had a wit and a charm that women seemed to enjoy. He had become a fixture behind the bar in the last year. So much so that if he wasn’t present the patrons, especially the female ones, asked about him. His lack of height never translated into lack of a girlfriend, despite his unconventional appearance.

  “I just had something to pick up in the office,” he said taking a seat at the bar so he could chat with them while they worked. “How’d things go tonight?”

  “Well, put it this way.” Rick took a deep breath and began shouting, “Slap! Shot! Shoot! Score! You just can’t stop the moose!” The words had become the battle cry of the Halifax Mooseheads.

  Robert had been so wrapped up in the whole drama with Billie he’d forgotten about the game. “I take it they won.”

  “Yeah, was a nail biter though. They got it in overtime.”

  “Sweet. That’s always good for business. You make lots of tips, Chelle?”

  Chelle had been smiling while listening to them talk and she looked up from polishing the beer mugs, giving him a grin. Something strange happened in his chest just then, and if he’d been an older man he would have thought it was the beginning of some kind of heart ailment. It thudded in his chest unexpectedly and he felt a rush of warmth flood his body.

  “Yup. Tips o’ plenty.”

  “Tips o’ plenty?’ Rick laughed. “That sounds like one of the elves on the cereal box. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya. I’m Tips O’Plenty. Where is me lucky whisky?”

  “Rick, you’re such a tool.”

  “Baby, that’s hurts.”

  Robert suddenly had the urge to have Chelle all to himself. “Well go hurt yourself down in the storage room. There are two kegs that need to be put against the wall.”

  “That hurts me old Irish feelings even more,” he said, sauntering across the room.

  When Robert knew he was down there he leaned over the bar grabbing a shot glass. “Hey, speaking of whisky, pass it over this way.”

  “One for the road?” she said, pour
ing the shot and leaving the bottle on the bar.

  “Yeah, why not. You want one?”

  “Me?”

  “Sure. We’ve all got something to drink to…or over. I’ve learned that by running all these bars. Practically everyone has a reason to drink.”

  “I don’t know if I should,” she said, a quizzical look crossing her face. Just as Robert was about to down the shot she said, “When’s the next drug test? I mean, I wouldn’t want it showing up on that.”

  He swallowed fast in an effort not to choke, then they looked at each other for a long moment. Her with a knowing slanted smile, he with his eyes widened in surprise. “You’re too smart for your own good, Chelle.”

  “Oh please,” she said refilling the shot glass. “If I was that smart I wouldn’t be working in a bar. No offense.”

  “None taken,” he said downing the second one. “How’d you guess?”

  She said nothing, simply raised her eyebrows as if to say, really? And then continued to wipe down the bar. “So, Chelle, where are you from anyway? You grow up around here?”

  She came to a dead standstill for a moment, now it was her turn to look uncomfortable. “Yeah. Born and raised.”

  “Where about?”

  “Around,” she said trying to look even busier than she already was. “You driving? Because I’m gonna have to cut you off if you are.”

  “You’d cut me off? That’s not nice,” he said, playfully.

  “I’m just doing my job sir,” she said, taking the whisky bottle from his reach and putting it back behind the bar.

  “I suppose you’re right. You don’t make the rules, and I hear your boss is a real hard ass.”

  She relaxed and smiled again. She had a smile that, when it was genuine, showed every tooth. Her large beautiful lips…and that lipstick…damn. She was downright sexy. “He’s more of a minor nuisance. He’s not so bad.”

  “Well, you should tell him that sometime.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  After a moment of awkward silence that came from the realization that they were both flirting with each other, and probably inappropriately at that, Robert fished his car keys out of his pocket and stood. “Hey, looks like you’re finished here. Do you need a ride home? I could drop you.”

  “No,” she said a little too quickly. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble. I’m wide awake. Don’t think I’ll sleep much tonight. I’m too worried about my mother,” he heard himself say.

  “Oh. Is she alright?”

  That one question and the tone of concern showed more compassion in a few seconds than his own fiancé had taken the opportunity to do in the last twenty-four hours. “Yeah, we had to put her in a home today. I just…well…it’s been a long day.”

  Chelle’s eyes grew sad and she leaned against the bar, coming closer to him. “That couldn’t have been easy for you. I’m sure you did what you thought was best though.”

  He hadn’t of course, and wanted to say so, but he figured he’d said enough already. “Yeah.”

  “Well, you should go home and get some sleep. They say things have a way of working themselves out. Maybe the whole thing will look better to you once you’ve had some shuteye.”

  “I think you’re right. Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

  “I’ll be fine. I have a ride coming anyway.”

  “Ok,” he said, not wanting to push. “You’re in tomorrow right?”

  “Yeah. Late one. Six to close.”

  “Ah. Well maybe I’ll catch you Wednesday,” he called heading out the door. Robert was working his hardest to stay casual, but the thought of not seeing her until Wednesday was too much. He’d see her tomorrow for sure. He’d just have to find an excuse to come back after his day work was done in the office.

  Chelle went back to cleaning up. “Later,” she said.

  Definitely he thought.

  Robert sat in his parked car for a long time, watching and waiting for both Chelle and Rick to leave. As he did he fiddled with the radio dial trying to distract himself, but nothing worked. He’d talked himself into following her to see where she went. Perhaps the other night was a fleeting moment of insanity, or perhaps he hadn’t seen what he thought he saw. Maybe he’d been mistaken about the person he saw entering the empty home. Tonight, he decided, he was going to find out.

  When Chelle and Rick finally emerged they stood outside. He waited until a cab picked her up before leaving, which Robert was thankful for. He was good to his people, and in turn they were good to one another. Chelle’s cab motored off down the street and he followed, letting a few cars get in front of him so as not to be noticed.

  As the glowing roof light made its way through town his stomach twisted in a knot, recognizing the way they were headed. Indeed the cab took her right to Oceanview Drive, but not to the same house. It let her out across the street and Robert watched as she paid the driver, then waited until he was out of sight to dart across the street to the empty Gwok residence, grabbing the key from the doorframe once more before letting herself in again.

  “Goddamit Chelle. What the fuck are you doing?” he muttered under his breath. He sat in his parked car trying to decide what to do. For a brief moment he was convinced he could actually knock on the door and have her answer and give him a rational explanation for all of this. He so wanted one, he couldn’t think of Chelle as anything other than decent and hardworking. There was no way she could be capable of breaking and entering, or squatting for that matter.

  Just the same as on the first night he watched there were no lights. What? Was she sitting in the dark in there? It didn’t make sense.

  Chapter Nine

  Chelle thought she must have been losing her mind. The small kindness Robert had shown her had apparently gone straight to her head and she found herself distracted by thoughts of him for the remainder of the time she closed up with Rick, barely hearing a word he’d said even as they waited for her cab together. It had been a long night. The Mooseheads beat the Screaming Eagles five to four in overtime causing the place to fill up afterwards with happy fans who were in the mood to celebrate themselves into a drunken stupor.

  By the end of the night she wanted to collapse, despite the extra three hours of sleep her body had demanded that morning. Her alarm had gone off alright, but Chelle slept right through it. The wings always seemed to sap her energy for the next couple of days anyway and given the fact she’d been running on little or no sleep she wasn’t all that surprised.

  She had been yawning her head off behind the bar for the last half hour before Robert came in. Suddenly after seeing him her body reacted like someone had given it a good dozen or so shots of espresso. Best of all he’d been alone, and then, break of all breaks, he sent Rick away and they had been alone together. As an extra added bonus, Bitch Billie was nowhere to be found.

  She smiled to herself as she curled up in her sleeping bag, hugging an old pillow to her as she tried to quiet her mind for sleep. She imagined Robert. Laying there next to her, the pillow his chest, his arms around her…possibly naked.

  You’re pathetic Chelle, she scolded herself. Robert didn’t have any kind of feelings for her other than the feeling that she was a good waitress, and he was short staffed. He was nice to her, yes, but he was nice to everyone equally. He wasn’t flirting with her at all…was he?

  Give it up!

  She forced herself to think of other things as she drifted off, her body pressing for more sleep. Her subconscious had other ideas however, and all night she dreamed of Robert. His black curls, eyes, his arms…his arms…

  When she woke the next morning it was as if she could feel his arms around her, shielding her, protecting her. The sensation was so real for a moment that she was convinced the entire life she’d lead up to this point had been the dream, and Robert was the reality.

  Then as wonderful as she’d felt upon waking, she felt as dreadful upon realizing she was still in a stranger’s house, a
ll alone on a concrete floor and having to get up and spend the day out wandering around until she could show up at the bar to work her ass off. Nobody had ever held Chelle like that, and she suspected nobody ever would. Especially Robert. Why would someone want a woman with a back that looked like it had been repeatedly put through a meat grinder when he had someone like Billie?

  Billie. The thought of her made Chelle want to puke, or run away, or both. While she wouldn’t see Robert today, there was a good chance she’d run into Bitch Billie because she routinely dropped by to micromanage the staff in the evening. Largely, everyone suspected, because Robert was not there to see what she was doing. It was going to be sheer hell after they were married. For some reason the thought of Robert walking down the aisle made her want to retch.

  It was five a.m. If she was going to get out of the house before anyone saw she’d have to be up and dressed in half an hour. She went upstairs to brush her teeth and put on some makeup, not noticing on her way past the Gwok’s phone that the message light was blinking furiously in the dark. Chelle liked to pride herself on her street smarts, but something that should have served as a warning sign to anyone with any sort of a clue in that area went completely unnoticed. Mostly because she was busy thinking of something…someone…else.

  ***

  Billie dropped her purse on Robert’s desk, or their desk as she liked to think of it. Until last night that was. He had spoken to her like she was just another employee here and the words had stayed in her psyche all night, festering and growing until she couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted to play boss? Fine, she’d show him who the real boss was going to be. To show him she was in control here she had, so far today, sent his call to voicemail five separate times and avoided him at work. She hoped he was feeling bad. That was step one. Step two would be to give him the silent treatment until he apologized and conceded that if they were to be married this would be as much her business as it was his. It was only fair.

  No matter what, she knew she had to keep asserting her authority here. In time he’d thank her. He was on a much too casual basis with the staff and although he didn’t see it, they routinely walked all over him. The bars were busy, yes, but they weren’t nearly as popular as they’d once been, back when Robert’s father had owned the place.