As the Southern Wind Moves On

Chapter 12---Trouble-Makers

So much had happened lately that I didn't know how to handle any of it. I decided to visit Mira.

Timeless Bar.

It was still early, and only a few patrons had arrived. Mira handed me a cocktail and asked, "What brings you here at this hour? Something wrong?"

I shook my head slightly, setting down the drink I'd raised to my lips, and looked at her as the stage's sultry pole dance merged with pounding music and shrill cheers. "Nothing serious. Just came by to sit for a while."

"Did Maxwell Harrington bully you again?" Mira asked, exasperated. "If you really can't live with him, just divorce him already. With your looks and figure, what man couldn't you have? Why stay tied to a cold statue your whole life? Don't you ever get tired?"

Mira had always been blunt. We'd weathered so much together—through thick and thin—and were true friends. She lived freely and couldn't stand how I clung to Maxwell.

I pulled the ultrasound scan from my bag and handed it to her, feeling helpless. "Even with my looks and body, if I'm bringing a child into the picture, what man would accept that?"

She snatched the scan, studied it intently, then stared at me, eyes wide. "Six weeks? But you and Maxwell haven't even been intimate—how did this happen?"

"Remember that night last month when I was drunk and Maxwell came to pick me up?" I said, taking the paper back.

She gaped, stunned and speechless. After a long silence, she finally asked, "So what are you going to do now?"

I shook my head. At this point, I had no idea.

"Just abort it!" Mira said. "You two were never right for each other. Now that Mr. Edmund Harrington is gone, keeping this baby will only lead to trouble. Better to end it, divorce Maxwell, and move on. Life's long—you can't spend it loving just one man."

I drifted into thought, watching the bar fill with more people. I turned to Mira. "Go serve your guests. I'll stay here a while."

Seeing I wouldn't listen, she gave up, shot me a glare, and swapped my cocktail for a glass of juice.

As night deepened, the bar grew livelier. Mira got busy and had no time for me. I found a quiet corner and sat, lost in thought.

Watching the men and women weaving through the neon glow and clinking glasses, I momentarily lost myself.

When the trouble erupted at the bar, I didn't register it at first. Only when sharp screams and chaotic shouts pierced the air did I snap back to reality.

I saw that several thugs had entered the bar and were confronting Mira. Most of the customers had fled, and the blaring music had been silenced.

I sat in the shadows, dimly lit, so I wasn't easily seen. Mira was surrounded by the men, each gripping a bat.

It was clear they'd come to cause trouble. Yet Mira stayed calm, eyeing them. "Are you here for a fight or just for fun?"

"I'm here to stir things up, sweetheart," the leader sneered, reaching out with a lewd grin to touch her face.

"Smack!" Before his wandering hand could land, I hurled my orange juice glass straight at it.

Startled and in pain, the thug clutched his arm and roared, "Who the hell threw that?!"

"Me!" I stood up and stepped between them, glancing at Mira. She looked at me with concern. "Why are you still here?"

I gave her a flat look. Apparently, she'd thought I'd already left.

I rolled my eyes. "If I'm not here, where else would I be?"

"i***t!" Mira hissed, pushing me behind her and whispering, "When this blows up, run for the door."

Knowing she was worried, I didn't argue. I just looked at the thug I'd hit and said, "Is it right for several grown men to pick on a young woman?"