Cardinal (5 page)

I toss an irritated look at the machine that
tried to suffocate me. “I’d say so.”

“That’s too bad. I could spot you.” He smiles
and takes a step. “You know, teach you to exercise the right way.”

He looks casual, but his tone insinuates he’s
not talking about exercise. “I don’t think Heidi would appreciate the lesson,”
I say.

Juliana comes up behind me. “How was it?” Then,
she notices my company. “Ohhh. Hey, Latson.”

“Hey.” He crosses his arms. “Just so you know, I
saved your friend from death.”

“What?” She looks at me.

He snickers. “I’ll let her explain. I gotta run.
I need to get this work out in before the bar opens.”

He waves and walks away as Juliana pins me with
a stare. “What happened?”

I sigh. Of course he would mention my
predicament. “Let’s just say I need to work up to your level, Jules.”

We start to make our way to the locker room
when Juliana bumps my arm. “Look over there,” she whispers.

“At what?”

“Latson.”

Um, okay. My eyes sweep the gym floor when I
spot him standing in front of the same mirrors Juliana and I used earlier. His
back is to us as he balances a weight bar across his shoulders and squats. I
can’t deny it’s a nice view. Muscular arms, tapered waist. Defined legs.

“Do you see it?” she asks.

“See what?”

“His ass.”

My mouth falls open. “Jules!”

“I told you you could bounce a quarter off it.”

I can’t resist and sneak another peek. He bends
at the knees again, causing his shorts to hug his body.

Yeah. You could probably bounce a lot more than
a quarter off that.

Just then, his eyes find my reflection in the
mirror. He winks to let me know I’ve been caught. I’m tempted to wink back, but
I stop myself. He’s involved with Heidi. Instead, I stand there like an idiot
and stare.

Great. In addition to stumbling and getting
stuck in a leg press, I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him yet again.

“Let’s go,” I grumble and head toward the
locker room.

“Thank you, Tricia. I’ll wait for your call.”

I hang up with my insurance agent and look out
over the blue water of Lake Michigan. I watch it lap the shore for a few moments
before wiggling my feet and burying them further into the sand. The sun has
decided to shine and turn this spring day into an anomaly. The temperature
hovers near seventy-five degrees, which is high for this time of year. The city
is taking advantage of the warm weather, and I’m one of hundreds on this beach.
I thought it would be a good idea to get out of Pete’s apartment, explore a
bit, and recover from my gym experience.

I also thought it would be a good idea to spend
some time alone. I know I’ve only been here two days, but if I’m going to relax
and “do me,” I should start sooner rather than later. I’m not sure how long I’ll
be staying in Chicago without obligations.

My eyes scan the people around me and they land
on a young mother, or maybe she’s a babysitter, with a toddler to my left. They’re
wearing jeans, but building sand castles anyway. Farther down the shore a few
high school kids toss a football and, past them, a couple stands near the
water’s edge. They grab my attention.

He’s wearing a suit. She’s wearing denim capris
and flip flops. She gestures with her hands and he reaches out, catching them
to stop her. He studies her face, says something, then leans forward and, I
assume, whispers in her ear. I watch her take a step back with wide eyes. It
doesn’t appear things are going well.

A seagull swoops low over the water and distracts
me for a second. I glance at the bird, then back to the couple. They stare at one
another. The man looks tired and the woman shakes her head. Then, she wraps her
arms around her waist and walks away. She heads in my direction, and I watch
the man close his eyes before opening them slowly. I expect him to call her
back, or run to her to make things right. Neither happens. When she’s steps away
from me, he turns and leaves without saying a word.

I feel awful for her. I know I’m jumping to
conclusions, but, given my most recent dating experience, I feel like none of
this is her fault. As she passes in front of me I ask, “Are you okay?”

She looks surprised I noticed her and stops
walking. “My fairytale just ended,” she says.

Her choice of words strikes me. I can
sympathize. Before I tell her so, she brushes tears from her cheeks and continues
on her way. I’m sure she doesn’t want to discuss her life with a stranger.

My fairytale just ended.

I turn her statement over in my mind. Unfortunately,
I know that feeling all too well. The feeling that something is meant to be,
only it turns out the opposite is true. An image of my ex Kyle appears in my
thoughts, and I pull my knees to my chest.

As much as I don’t want to admit it, I truly
thought he was the one.

For three years Kyle and I lived together in
his cute little two bedroom ranch. It was my home for a long time, and I made
the mistake of assuming it would be forever. I think it surprised him just as
much as it surprised me when I walked out. I wanted a deeper commitment. A ring.
When I brought up the subject he said he wasn’t ready to take that step. I
didn’t understand why and I let my emotions get the best of me. Only after
meeting Addison did everything become clear. As much as I wanted his heart, it
never belonged to me.

Suddenly, inspiration hits. I open the notes
app on my phone and start typing.

The sounds around me fade as a song forms in my
mind. It comes to me quickly, faster than any song I’ve written before. Even
the one I wrote for Kevin’s wedding took longer than this. Probably because it
was his gift and I wanted it to be perfect. Regardless, things can’t always be
perfect and this song won’t be, but when I finish the lyrics, I fall in love
with what I’ve created.

Standing, I wipe the sand from jeans and find
my shoes. I walk away from the beach and toward the sidewalk.

Thank you, mystery couple,
I think. I
can’t wait to get to my guitar.

~~~~

“Heads up!”

A black t-shirt smacks me in the face.

“Hey!”  I look at my brother. “What was that
for?”

“We’re short bartenders and I need your help.”

“At work?” My face twists as I lean over to
snag the shirt off the floor. “Why me?”

“Because you’re great at it and I know you’d like
some extra cash. Plus, it’s Saturday. I don’t want to leave you all alone.”

“I’ll survive,” I say, although the idea of working
appeals to me. More money has left my pocket than I anticipated. Juliana and I
went shopping on Michigan Avenue the other day. It’s hard to resist new clothes
when someone gushes about how cute they look, especially when the outfit
matches the new boots you just bought from Saks.

“Okay,” Pete sighs. “We
really
need your
help. A band is performing tonight and the bar will be packed. Both Mina and
Maggie called off; they have the stomach flu or something. Gwen is the only one
left and she can’t handle it on her own.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” I straighten out the
shirt in my hands. “Gwen I’ll help. You on the other hand … ”

Pete rolls his eyes and I glance at the shirt. Scrawled
across the chest, in fire-orange letters, is the word
Torque
. My brother
wears a similar uniform, except his shirt has his first name on the sleeve.

Pete checks his watch. “Put that on. We need to
get moving.”

Leave it to my brother to wait until the last
minute. “If I’m going to make any tips I at least have to comb my hair.”

Pete sighs as I set my guitar down and leave
the couch. I head to change, opting for black jeans to go with the black shirt,
since I left my bartending skirts at home. In the bathroom, I brush through my hair
and pull it back in a low, messy pony. I take a few minutes to fix my face and
when I’m done, I have dark smoky eyes and pink, glossed lips. Hopefully this
will be good enough for the atmosphere. I’ve never been to Pete’s work before.

The drive takes us around thirty minutes with
traffic. If the streets were empty, it would’ve taken us ten. Torque is located
on the outskirts of a trendy area in Lincoln Park, or so my brother tells me. He
said the bar started out small, but became popular by word of mouth. When we
pull down a random side street and up to the entrance, the location is more
discreet than I had imagined. Through the car window, I look up at the plain
red brick building. Only a few tinted windows dot the exterior, and a small black
awning stamped with the word “Torque” marks the door. No wonder this place
relies on recommendations. How does anyone find it?

As Pete rolls to a stop in front of the entrance,
I unfasten my seatbelt. “Where do you –?”

My question is cut off when my door unexpectedly
opens. I turn to see a surprised yet familiar face. Once Felix takes me in, he rearranges
his features to look suave. “Mi amor,” he purrs.

He extends his hand and I let him help me out
of the car. Once I’m standing on the curb, I shoot him a saucy, “Muchas
gracias.”

He grins at me.

I hear the other door shut and watch Pete walk
around the hood of his car. He tosses his keys to Felix. “My
little sister
is filling in. Please behave.”

Of course he would emphasize ‘little sister’
.
I roll my eyes. “I’m grown, Pete. You behave.”

Felix laughs. “This should be interesting. Have
you told the boss who you’ve hired?”

“Just park the car,” Pete says.

My brother starts to walk inside and I follow. Is
his boss going to be mad that he brought me?  Over his shoulder, I ask, “Are
you going to get in trouble?  And why are you making Felix park your car?  It’s
rude.”

Pete holds the door open for me. “It’s not rude.
It’s his job. He’s a valet.”

Oh. So much for my earlier cut-off question. I
was going to ask where he parks.

“Besides,” he continues, “I hired him. I can
fire him.”

“What?”

Pete ushers me inside. “I’m a bouncer, but I’m also
a manager. That’s why I needed to find someone to cover the bar. The schedule
is my responsibility.”

My eyes narrow. “‘
I don’t want to leave you
alone on a Saturday’,”
I mimic his voice. “You’re so full of shit.”

He grins. “Hey. I didn’t know if you would want
to work while you’re here. I haven’t forgotten my tactics from when we were
kids. Remember when I tricked you into doing my chores because I told you I’d
split my allowance?”

“Yes,” I snap. “You’re awful. Convincing a six-year-old
to clean toilets because you, Adam, and Josh couldn’t hit the broad side of a
barn when you took a piss. You told me a nickel was worth more than a dime because
it was bigger.”

He laughs. “I paid for it, though. Mom grounded
me for a week.”

This is true.         

My brother stops walking and grabs my elbow. “Little
J, you’re really helping me out. If I had any other alternative, I wouldn’t
have dragged you down here. The last thing I want to watch is my friends hitting
on you.”

I’m confused. “Do you mean Felix?  He’s
harmless.”

“And Carter. And Latson. And God knows who
else.”

I give him an exasperated look. “I can hold my
own. A little innocent flirting never hurt anyone. It can make a girl feel good,
you know.”

Pete scrunches up his face like he tasted
something sour. “I don’t need my friends making you feel good.”

I roll my eyes.

“Jennnnnnn!”  Gwen draws out my name and rushes
to greet me. “I’m so glad you’re here!  When I called your brother to tell him
about Mina and Maggie I almost cried.”

My forehead creases.

“Let me show you around.”

Gwen grabs my wrist and I let her lead me
around Torque. As we walk, I realize the outside of the building doesn’t do the
inside justice. It’s much bigger than it appears from the street, with two
levels and an elevated stage in one corner. The décor is urban, with exposed light
bulbs, pipes, and wood beams. Mismatched chairs and high top tables are
sporadically spaced, and a large horseshoe-shaped bar extends to the center of
the main floor. As my eyes trace the upper balcony that wraps around the entire
room, Gwen catches me staring.

“There are couches upstairs and two private
lounges,” she says. “The only bar is down here, but people can order drinks
from the waitstaff if they’re sitting up top.”

I nod as she leads me behind the massive bar. She
points out all the essentials: ice machine, dump sink, soda guns, syrup
connections, keg coolers. She crouches in front of a locked cabinet and pulls a
key ring from her back pocket.

“Here’s where we keep the liquor for set-up and
stock if we run low. There’s more in the basement if the night gets busy, which
I think it will with Riptide here.”

“Riptide?”

“The band that’s playing tonight.” She smiles
over her shoulder. “They’re local but they’re popular.”

Gwen opens up the cabinet and starts handing me
bottles to fill the wells.

“Premium on the left, house on the right,” she says.

We spend the next hour prepping our work space.
We laugh and make small talk as we tap kegs, fill napkin dispensers, stock
glasses, and slice lemons and limes. I get to see a little of the basement on a
search for maraschino cherries, and, as we stand and spear olives, the band
starts their sound check. I hate to admit that I’ve missed working a bar, but I
have. There’s something about this atmosphere that excites me. The music, the
party, the people. I know my feet and my lower back are going to ache in the
morning, but right now I couldn’t care less.

“Well, lookie who’s here.”

Gwen is in the middle of giving me a cash
register lesson when we’re interrupted. I look away from the monitor. “Hey,
Carter.”

His eyes light up. “You remember me.” He leans
over the top of the bar and grabs a stir stick from the container.

“How could I forget the man who’s trying to
steal my brother’s girl?”

He gives me a wry smile. “That’s just me giving
Jules crap. Pete and I asked her out at the same time on a dare. She flipped a
coin to decide who to see first and he won. The rest is history. I never got my
chance.”

“Awww.” I fake sympathy and pout. “Poor
Carter.”

“Poor me is right.”

“What-
ever
.” Gwen draws out the word and
rolls her eyes. “This guy is with someone new all the time. Don’t let him fool
you.”

I level my eyes at Carter. “So, you’re a
player.”

“No. I’m a bouncer.” He wiggles his eyebrows at
me. “It’s not my fault if the ladies need help getting home from time to time.”

I laugh.

“Carter!”

My brother’s voice carries from the main doors.
“Let’s go!” he hollers.