Secret North: Book 4 of The Wishes Series (25 page)

“But you’re my douche, Ryan.”

He kissed my hand. “Yes, I am.”

41
. ONE HIT WONDERS

Ryan

We walked for quite a while, but as usual didn’t cover much ground. The plan was to head back to the playground to kill the last hour before I took Bridget home.

We’d just turned back when a woman walking pushing a stroller stopped us. “Hello Ryan, how are you?”

I repeatedly blinked, trying to put a name to the face. Sneaking a quick look at the toddler sitting in the stroller didn’t help. I didn’t recognise him either.

“Fine,” I replied, “how are you?”

I could tell by the look on her face that she knew I was clueless.

“I’m fine,” she replied simply.

I nodded, unsure where to take the conversation next. Thankfully, Bridget provided the perfect distraction by striking up a conversation with her kid. “Hi boy,” she said cheerily. “Do you want to see my finder?” Predictably, the little guy made a grab for the compass as soon as she held it out. Even more predictably, Bridget had no intention of letting him anywhere near it. “You can’t touch it,” she instructed, stepping out of his reach. “Just look nicely at it.”

I put my hand on Bridget’s shoulder and pulled her back toward me. The smile on mystery lady’s face didn’t waver but nothing about it seemed genuine. “So, you have a family too?” she asked.

I could see how she’d jumped to the conclusion, but still felt awkward correcting her. “Ah, no. This is my girlfriend Bente and my niece, Bridget.”

“Hi lady,” Bridget beamed.

I silently begged her to ask the woman her name, but for once Bridget kept quiet. I remained clueless.

“Well,” said the mystery woman, giving the stroller a push. “We should let you go.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” I lied, half waving as she walked away.

“Bye boy,” called Bridget.

We’d only walked a few yards further when Bente murmured from the corner of her mouth. “You have no idea who she is, do you?”

I shook my head. “No clue.”

“Her name’s Vanessa.” I stared blankly at her. “She’s one of your one hit wonders. You met her at Nellie’s one night and took her home.”

Despite the terrible tale, Bente didn’t seem too disgusted with me, even when I asked her for more details.

“Seriously, Ryan. You don’t remember her?”

“No.” I was mystified. “I have no idea who she is.”

Bente frowned, showing the first hint of annoyance. “You gave her the usual ‘I’ll call you tomorrow line’.”

“So?”

“So, you never called her.”

“I never called any of them,” I muttered, fighting the urge to cringe.

“Yes, but you picked her up at Nellie’s so she knew where you worked,” she explained. “She showed up every night for a week looking for you.”

“That had to be at least five years ago,” I grumbled. “How come you remember her?”

“She was memorable, Ryan – almost stalker material. We used to call her Vanessa the distresser.”

I glanced back at the woman pushing the stroller down the Mall, and quickly concluded that I was truly a despicable man.

I called out to Bridget and ordered her not to walk any further ahead before turning my attention to Bente. “Will you wait here a minute?”

She nodded. I lurched forward, kissed her lips and ran to catch up with the stroller.

As soon as she was within earshot, I called out. The look on Vanessa’s face as she turned around was one of shock, but she let me catch up.

“Can I have a moment?” I asked.

“What for?”

It nearly killed me, but I forced myself to look her in the eye. “Vanessa, I treated you horribly,” I told her. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m not that guy any more.”

After considering my bumbled apology, she finally smiled. It wasn’t blinding, but it looked a damned sight more genuine than the one she’d given when she stopped me. “I really appreciate that.” She sounded a little melancholy. “No hard feelings.”

I nodded, perfectly willing to leave it at that. “Thank you.”

“Bye Ryan,” she said, already edging away from me. I mumbled a goodbye in return.

I watched Vanessa wheeling her kid down the path for a long time. I wasn’t feeling redeemed, but I did feel hopeful. I truly wasn’t that guy any more. In time I hoped I’d forget all about him. It was unrealistic to think that every woman I’d scorned would too, but at least I’d managed to make amends with one.

Needing a minute to think, I took my time getting back to the girls. Bridget was clearly tired of waiting. Knowing the leap she was about to take off the park bench probably wasn’t going to end well, I grabbed her and hoisted her onto my shoulders. “Get me higher to the sky, Ry,” she demanded, with a death grip on my neck. We continued our slow walk. Bente hooked her arm though mine and I held Bridget’s feet.

“How did it go?” she asked curiously.

“Okay.” I couldn’t look at her. “Not my finest hour.”

Bente tightened her hold on me. “I think it was.”

“I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“I didn’t put up with you back then,” she replied. “You were an asshole.”

I stopped walking and turned to her. It was a move that made Bridget nervous. She nearly choked me in a bid to hang on tighter. Bente reached up and loosened her grip. “He’s got you, Bridge,” she assured the child. “And I’ve got him.”

***

Women are dangerous creatures – at least mine was.

The products littering the bathroom counter had the makings of a catastrophic chemical attack. Bente’s process of getting ready for a night on the town was complex and unnecessary. She was completely and utterly beautiful. Why she needed to spend an hour trying to improve on that bewildered me.

I stood in the doorway trying to hurry her along. “We’re going to be late.”

“Where are we going anyway?” she asked, swiping a big brush across her cheek.

“I told you, to a club.”

She paused the primping to ponder my explanation. I could almost see her mind ticking over. “A night club?”

I wasn’t exactly sure what Tiger Malone’s establishment was so I avoided the question and begged her to hurry up.

She finally downed tools and turned to face me. “Okay. I’m done.”

For a quick moment, I reconsidered our plans. She was wearing the red dress that she’d worn on our first date. I loved that dress. It did strange things to my thought processes.

“Is something wrong? Do I look alright?” She sounded worried. Perhaps my wide-eyed look of reverence was a strange one.

“You’ll do.”

Her concerned expression intensified. “I’ll change,” she said, pushing past me.

I made a grab and pulled her in close. “I’m kidding,” I replied. “You’re beautiful.” I leaned in and kissed her. My effort was good, but nothing compared to hers. The red dress came with its own kissing technique.

“We have to get out of here,” I murmured, finally breaking free. “Or I may never let you leave.”

***

Our cab driver didn’t exactly have to fight for a spot when we pulled up outside the club. The real estate surrounding it was predominantly residential, so traffic was at a minimum.

“Are you sure this is it?” asked Bente, leaning across me to look out the window. Her caution was understandable. The place looked deserted. “It looks rough, Ryan.”

I got out and reached for her hand. “It’s not rough,” I assured her. “Just unpolished.”

Bente skipped to keep up as I led her to the steps. “Are you going to buy it?” she asked.

“I don’t think it’s for sale any more.”

She yanked on my hand, pulling me to a stop. “So why are we here, then?”

“Because the cranky old owner invited us here. He wants to meet my gorgeous girl.” I leaned in and kissed her ruby lips. “I’m not above showing you off.”

I wasn’t hopeful of anyone answering if I knocked, so I tried my luck and turned the handle. The old door creaked open. Bente clung to my hand just like Bridget does when she’s scared. We took a few measured steps into the deserted foyer as if we’d just entered a haunted house.

Being alone in the room gave me a chance to check it out properly. There really wasn’t much to it. A small coat check area to my left, double doors leading into the main room, and a staircase to my right that was roped off with a ‘staff only’ sign.

“It’s lucky we’re not wearing coats,” commented Bente, running her finger along the dusty counter. “I wouldn’t be checking mine.”

I spun to face her. “It’s great, isn’t it?”

She dusted off her hands. “It has a certain something,” she conceded.

The whole place screamed intangible charm. Even the old fashioned flowery carpet was endearing, despite the fact it felt sticky beneath my feet.

The more time I spent there, the more I wanted it. It was almost cruel that it was off the market.

My moment of dwelling came to an end when Tiger burst through the double doors. Poor Bente nearly jumped out of her dress, and judging by the look on Tiger’s face, he would’ve appreciated the show.

“Welcome,” he announced, gritting his teeth to keep a grip on his cigar.

Bente maintained her hold on my arm and stepped with me as I moved to shake his hand. “Thanks for inviting us,” I replied. I still wasn’t sure what we were doing there, but got the impression the answers were behind the doors he’d just crashed through. I could hear faint chatter on the other side.

I introduced him to Bente. Tiger Malone was a player. He took the cigar from his mouth and kissed her hand.

“Pretty girl,” he gazed into Bente’s eyes, “what are you doing with a schmuck like him?”

Bente dropped her head, chuckling down at the floor.

I pretended to be outraged. “You wouldn’t be making a move on my girl, would you, Tiger?” It would be a slow move if he was. Tiger Malone couldn’t have been a day under eighty. If he were my age, he might’ve given me a run for my money. He seemed to possess the same
je ne sais quoi
as his building.

Tiger was dressed to the hilt in club owner mode, rocking a black suit that probably had fitted well when he bought it thirty years ago.

“Did you bring your dancing shoes?” he asked, looking at Bente’s feet.

She looked at me quizzically. I hadn’t mentioned dancing, mainly because I didn’t think she’d be doing any. The venue I’d viewed a few days earlier was in no fit state for tripping the light fantastic.

“I’ll make do,” she replied.

Tiger leaned back on one of the doors, using his weight to push it open. “After you,” he announced.

Bente and I had no chance of slipping in unnoticed. We stuck out like sore thumbs, mainly because we were the only ones there with our own teeth. We’d somehow stumbled into a senior citizen’s convention.

“You like what I’ve done with the place?” asked Tiger, slapping me on the back.

I glanced at him only briefly. My focus was on trying to work out what he’d done with the place. The only noticeable change was the addition of some tables and chairs. The floor was still dusty and the paint on the walls was still peeling.

A serious-looking game of poker was being played at one table. Plastic chips were being tossed around and a toxic plume of smoke billowed above. How the old men had lived such long lives with smoking habits like that was beyond me. The other tables were a bit more laid back, but judging by the laughter and constant chatter these people were not typical oldies.

“Is this the music, Malone?” shouted one old man. “Are they the band?”

“Maybe,” replied Tiger, throwing his gruff voice across the room. He turned to Bente. “Do you sing, Ginger Rogers?” Bente shook her head but said nothing. It was a first. I’d never seen her at a loss for words before. “They’re not the band, Earl,” he yelled to his friend. “You’re going to have to wait.”

“I’m eighty-two,” Earl shot back. “How long do you think I have?”

The whole room dissolved into hearty chuckles. I couldn’t help smiling, especially when Bente started giggling too.

Tiger checked his watch. “The band was supposed to show at seven,” he explained. “I guess you get what you pay for.”

“Is this a regular Saturday night for you, Tiger?” I asked.

“Not really,” he admitted. “We haven’t been open for business in a while.”

“Are these people your friends?” asked Bente.

“Some are friends,” he replied, looking out at the tables ahead. “And some I wouldn’t trust as far as I could throw them.” He cupped his hand to his mouth to throw his voice. “I’m talking about you, Grover Irwin.”

An old man at the poker table looked up at the sound of his name. From the corner of my eye, I saw Tiger smirk at him. Grover responded in a way I wasn’t expecting. He flipped him the bird. Bente turned her head, burying her face in my shoulder to muffle her laugh.

My plan was to make polite excuses, grab my girlfriend and leave. It fell apart quickly when one of the old women waved Bente over to her table. She dropped my hand and wandered over as if she had no choice but to.