140
2556 Words
Cole
AFTER FINISHING up with the garbage disposal, I ran into Tank and Raina again on my way out to lunch.
“Where you heading now?” Tank asked, his arm around my sister’s shoulder.
“Was going to grab a bite to eat and check on Sal,” I replied, twirling my keys around my finger. “Unless you need me for something right now.”
“No, man. Go and get yourself some lunch. You’ve been working your ass off today.”
“Thanks.”
“I should go with you,” said Raina. Sal, our uncle, had admitted himself into an alcohol rehabilitation center three weeks ago. He’d been diagnosed with liver disease and things weren’t looking too good for him.
“Don’t you have to get back to the bar?” I asked her. Both she and I were now co-owners of Sal’s bar. Since I was already working two jobs, I wasn’t able to help out much but Raina insisted that she could handle running the place.
“Yeah, but Matt’s there. I’ll just call him and tell him I’m going to be a little late,” she replied.
Raina had promoted one of the bartenders to manager status. Even though he was a hard worker, this had pissed off some of the other waitresses, especially a woman named Marie, who’d given her a hard time even before the issue with Sal’s health.
“Sounds good,” I said, wanting to spend some time with Raina anyway. Both of us were always heading the opposite direction.
“How’s he been doing?” asked Tank.
“Sal? I spoke to him last night and he said that he was beginning to handle things a little better. The first couple of weeks were hell, though,” said Raina. “He went through withdrawals and had a pretty rough time. Hopefully the worst is over.”
“Good to hear. I like that old fart. He needs to get better so he can walk you down the aisle,” said Tank.
“That’s what I keep telling him. Surprisingly, he likes you, too,” said Raina.
“Princess, what’s not to like?” he said puffing out his chest and grinning wickedly. “I’m not only good looking, I’m great with kids and have a soft spot for his niece. Plus, I can always help run Sal’s if needed.”
“I’m sure you could. Cole and I have it covered, though. In fact,” she said, turning toward me, “I was hoping to start training you on a few things so that we could run the place together eventually. That way you wouldn’t have to bounce at Griffin’s.”
I looked at Tank.
He shrugged. “She needs you more than I do. I can always hire new security.”
“Exactly. You know, I’ve been putting in so many hours that I’m not spending as much time with Billy as I’d like.”
“I’d like to see more of you, too,” remarked Tank.
She leaned up and kissed him.
“Speaking of Billy, where is he now?” I asked. I missed my nephew and knew that if things didn’t change soon, he wouldn’t remember who I was.
“With Grandma Frannie,” she replied.
Frannie was Tank’s step-mom.
“Cool. Well, I have to work a few days at Griffin’s, but I have Sunday off. Maybe we could start then?” I suggested.
“Jessica and Jordan are returning Sunday,” said Tank. “I was hoping you could drive with me to the airport and pick them up. What about Friday? You can have that day off.”
“You sure? You know how crazy it gets there Friday nights,” I said. Especially when the strippers took the stage.
“Let me worry about that,” said Tank. “Help Raina with Sal’s and I’ll figure something out. Hell, maybe I’ll have Cheeks bounce,” he said, smirking. “She’s a tough b***h. In fact, tougher than most of the customers that walk through the front door.”
Cheeks was one of the waitresses at Griffin’s. She used to hang around the clubhouse and rumor had it that she’d slept with Tank a few times. Apparently now they were just friends. My sister didn’t have a clue about their past, however. If she did, the woman would be waitressing somewhere else. I liked Cheeks, though, and it was obvious that she knew exactly where she stood now that Raina was Tank’s Old Lady.
“I heard that she started dating your new cook, Levi,” said Raina.
“Yeah, it looks that way. He’s a nice guy,” said Tank. “Not only does he make a hell of a burger, he’s dependable. Never late and puts in extra hours.”
“I guess we know why,” said Raina, smiling.
“I guess we do,” said Tank.
Raina looked at her watch. “We should get going. I need to pick up Billy soon.”
“Yeah, and we have a meeting at two. Don’t forget,” said Tank.
“I won’t,” I replied, still wondering why I’d been invited.
He leaned over and kissed Raina goodbye, then my sister and I walked out the door.
“How’s Billy doing?”
“Good,” she said. “He asks about you all the time. You really need to stop by.”
“I know. Maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow and take him to the park.”
“He’d love that,” she replied.
I grinned. “Good. I’ll check my work schedule and see what time I get off.”
“Where you working tomorrow?”
“The auto body shop. Dou want a ride?” I asked, nodding toward my bike.
“No. I drove,” she said, digging in her purse for her keys.
“Okay. I’m going to grab a sandwich really quick,” I said, suddenly craving a Reuben. “Do you want me to pick you up anything? I’m heading over to Red’s Deli.”
“No, thank you. I brought Tank food already. We ate in his office.”
“Okay. Meet you at the center in about forty minutes?”
“Sure,” she said, getting into her car. “Drive safely.”
“You, too,” I replied, getting on my bike. I put my helmet and sunglasses on, then followed her out of the parking lot.
TERIN
AFTER SPENDING THE next couple of hours going through files, I rubbed my temples and sat back in the chair.
“Fun stuff, huh?” remarked Fred, walking past me with a cup of coffee.
“A laugh a minute,” I replied, smiling at him.
He nodded toward the clock. “You should take a break and grab a bite to eat.”
“You know, that’s a good idea,” I answered, my stomach growling at the mention of food. Anyone want me to bring back lunch?”
Pen, whose desk was nearest to mine, asked where I was going.
“I don’t know. I’m in the mood for a salad or maybe a sandwich,” I replied.
“I know just the place,” he said. “You should check out that deli on Fourth Street. They’ve got the best Philly cheesesteak sandwiches in town. They were featured on some food station show last summer, too.”
“Red’s Delicatessen?” I asked, recalling the place. I’d never been there but had heard the food was amazing.
“That’s it. Here,” he said, reaching into his wallet. He stood up and walked over to my desk. “You fly and I’ll buy.”
I waved my hand. “No. I’ll certainly go, but you don’t have to pay for my lunch.”
“Nonsense. You can buy next time,” he said, throwing a twenty dollar bill down in front of me. “Just get me one of those Phillies and a bag of pretzels. That’s all I ask.”
I picked the bill up. “Okay, thank you. Anyone else?”
“Could you bring back a piece of their blueberry pie?” asked Bronson. “I’ll pay you when you get back.”
“Sure.” I turned to Fred, who was now sitting down at his desk. “Do you want anything?”
He held up a brown bag. “No. My wife actually made me a lunch today. Thanks, though.”
“How is she doing?” I asked, knowing that his wife, Lilly, had recently lost her sister to lung cancer.
“Oh, she’s doing all right,” he replied, removing his eyeglasses. He began wiping them with a handkerchief. “She has her good days and bad ones. They were so close.”
“They were twins, weren’t they?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. It’s been very difficult but… I’m hoping that when our granddaughter Shawna comes to stay with us during Christmas, she’ll have something to smile about again.”
“Shawna is in college, right?” I asked, knowing how much he loved talking about her.
“Yes,” he replied, his face beaming. “She’s studying to be a doctor.”
“That’s wonderful,” I replied. “How many years of schooling does she have left?”
He chuckled. “Oh, about ten. She wants to be a brain surgeon.”
“Wow. Ambitious girl,” said Pen from the other side of me.
“Tell me about it. If anyone can do it she can. Smart as a whip and has the memory of an elephant,” he said. “Unlike her grandfather. I have a hard time remembering what I ate this morning.”
“Bullshit. You’ve got a great memory,” said Pen. He looked at me. “Doesn’t matter who he meets, this guy remembers first and last names, telephone numbers, and even eye colors. He’s the go-to guy for details.”
“Impressive,” I replied, meaning it. “She must get it from you then.”
“I reckon so,” admitted Fred, smiling proudly. “But she definitely got her beauty and sweetness from Lilly and her mother, Priscilla.”
“Come on now, I’m sure you made all the women swoon back in the day,” I told him. I figured Fred to be in his late sixties now, but with his sparkling blue eyes and contagious smile, it was easy to see that he’d once been a very good looking guy.
He gave me a modest smile. “I held my own. That’s for sure. Caught me a beauty, though. I suppose that says something.”
“I think she caught you,” I replied, winking. “Anyway, I’d better get going.” I shoved the money into my purse and stood up. “I’ll be back.”
“Be careful. That’s a bad area of town,” said Fred, putting his eyeglasses back on.
I bit back a smile. “I think I can handle it.”
“He’s right; although, it’s not so bad during lunchtime,” said Pen. “Just stay out of the alley.”
“You know I’m a cop, too, right? I carry a gun and even know how to use it,” I said, winking.
“Sorry,” said Pen, smiling. “You just remind me so much of my daughter. You even look a little like her.”
“Who’s your daughter?” asked Bronson. “Mila Kunis?”
“Mila Kunis? Who’s that?” asked Pen.
“An actress. She was the dark-haired hottie in ‘That 70s Show’. Jackie. O’Brien kind of looks like her, but with red hair. You ever think of dying it black?”
“Why would I want to do that?” I answered dryly.
“Black would look good on you. The color of your hair is almost too bright,” he answered.
“Unlike you?” I muttered.
Bronson grunted. “You know what your problem is, you think you’re so much better than everyone else.”
“Not really,” I said. “Just you.”
Fred and Pen laughed.
A vein began to throb on his forehead. He opened his mouth to say something, but then changed his mind. “Dyke,” he said under his breath as he turned away.
“What was that?” I asked sharply. I really didn’t like this guy. No wonder the only pie Bronson gets is the kind he has to pay for.
Ignoring me, he began typing on his laptop.
“Don’t listen to him,” said Pen, scowling at Bronson’s back. “He’s just mad because you called him out earlier in front of Walters.”
“Whatever,” said Bronson over his shoulder. “I didn’t do anything to O’Brien. Not on purpose, at least.”
My eyes narrowed. “Yeah, just like you didn’t call me a ‘dyke’. By the way, my cousin is gay so you’d better watch your mouth or next time, I will report you.”
“Maybe I should report you for annoying the f**k out of me,” he said.
“You know, they say that excessive swearing is a weakness. It shows ones inability to speak intelligently or prove a valid point,” I said.
“Maybe you should think about swearing more, since you’re not making any valid points either,” he retorted
“Ignore him,” said Pen. “He’s not worth your attention.”
“That’s for sure.” I headed toward the door. “I’ll be back.”
“Thanks for the warning,” said Bronson.
I gave him a dirty look.
He snorted. “I’m just giving you s**t. You should learn to take a couple of jabs without blowing a f*****g gasket. It’s what we do here. Give each other crap from time to time. It relieves some of the stress we have to deal with.”
“Seems like you’re creating more than relieving it,” I replied. “And this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve worked with other detectives before and there’s a difference between giving each other s**t and being downright insulting.”
“Let me guess – it’s your time of the month?” he replied.
I rolled my eyes. “You really are something special, aren’t you? Your wife must love it when you’re working overtime.”
“Leave her alone,” said Fred, when Bronson opened his mouth to retaliate. “Enough is enough.”
“Oh, she’s fine… right, O’Brien?” said Bronson, leaning back in his chair. He clasped his fingers over his pot belly. “Just like she said before… this isn’t her first rodeo. And… if she’s going to dish it out, she needs to learn how to take it, right?”
As far as I was concerned, I’d taken enough. “Sure. Whatever you say, Bronson,” I said dryly. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t forget the pie,” he said as I walked toward the doorway.
Resisting the urge to pull out my gun and shoot him in his pie-hole, I left the office.
- Writer
