Finding Abigail (4 page)

As we
approached the club, a buzz of excitement swept over me. I hadn’t been out in a
while, and it was time for some fun.

Even though it
was called The Cave, it was anything but. The building was enormous and
industrial looking. Like a warehouse right in the middle of the restaurant and
bar district. Bass echoed from the building with a constant
thump, thump,
thump,
making the steel siding hum with vibration. There was always a line
that led down the block to enter, but fortunately the line went fast, and we
didn’t have to wait long.

The bouncer,
who looked like he ingested his share of steroids, stood at the door with his
thick muscular arms crossed in front of his chest. Between the bald shiny head
and dark sunglasses, not to mention the deep scowl on his face, anyone in their
right mind would think twice before causing any kind of trouble.

Debbie
sauntered up to him, touching his muscled arm with the tip of her finger,
tracing it down to his elbow. “Hey, Felix, busy tonight?”

The bouncer
turned to her, scowl still in place, and slowly removed his glasses, revealing
bright emerald-colored eyes. The smile that spread brightened his face. “Hey
sugar.” His deep voice only added to the look; he was the scariest person I’d
ever been this close to. “What brings you out tonight? I haven’t seen you here
in a while.”

Debbie turned
to me. “I wanted to get my friend out in the land of the living. Felix, this is
Abby.” She wrapped her arms around us, her warm fingers resting on my bare shoulders.
“And this is her sister, Brenda.”

“It’s nice to
meet you, Felix,” we said at the same time, our voices wavering just a little.

He smiled
again, showing dimples I hadn’t seen earlier. “Lovely to meet you both. You’re
in good hands with this one.” He pointed to Debbie, giving us a wink, which led
me to believe that he wasn’t scary after all, but merely a big old teddy bear.
He opened the door and gestured for us to enter. “Have a good night, ladies,”
he called as we slipped by. I peeked over my shoulder at him once we were in,
and saw that the scowl was once again in place, glaring at a couple of men in
suits.

As we stepped
inside the dimly lit club, a mixture of smells hovered in the air—beer, wine,
sweet perfume and even the musky scent of cologne. But one particular odor
stood out from all the others—sweat. Which was understandable considering the
dance floor was overflowing with tons of gyrating bodies. The bass was
pounding, and even though the night was young, the large room was crowded. Debbie
found a table by the dance floor while Brenda went off to get us some drinks.

“Holy crap,
it’s busy tonight. Look at all the hot guys. We shouldn’t have a problem
finding men tonight,” Debbie yelled over the music.

I arched an
eyebrow at her. “What happen to the mystery writer?”

Her face fell.
“Turns out he was seeing a romance novelist, the bastard.”

“I’m sorry,
Debbie. Men are pigs.” I rubbed her back gently.

“Why are men
pigs?” Brenda yelled, sitting beside me, her hands empty.

“That’s a
stupid question. But speaking about questions, where are our drinks?” I leaned
toward her so I didn’t have to yell.

“The waitress
is bringing them. I couldn’t carry them all.” Just as she finished speaking, a
brown-haired waitress came over carrying a tray. She placed my vodka cooler and
their wine on the table, and then walked off. “I paid her at the bar,” Brenda
explained as I was reaching for my money. “So why are men pigs?” she asked
again.

“The guy Debbie
was dating cheated on her with a romance novelist.”

She gazed at
Debbie sympathetically. “Men suck. You’re too good for him.” She raised her
wine glass. “May the romance novelist give the mystery writer crabs, and may
his wee-wee shrivel up and fall off.” We laughed as we lifted our glasses,
clinked, and chugged back our drinks.

“How do you
know the bouncer?” I asked Debbie, after placing my bottle on the stained wood
table.

“We went to
high school together. I haven’t seen him in years, but when I started coming
here, I ran into him.” She paused as a couple of guys walked by. She did a hair
flip and went on. “We went to lunch once and I met his wife. She’s a
sweetheart.”

“He looks
scary,” I said, voicing my first opinion of him.

She was in the
process of taking a sip of her wine. She nodded as she swallowed. “Yeah, I know,
but it’s all an act. You should see him with his kids.”

Teddy bear, I
knew it—well, not at first of course; anyone that saw him wouldn’t think so.

We sat for a
while drinking, commenting on the other patrons’ dancing abilities, until
Debbie’s favorite song came on and declared it was our turn. She dragged us up
to dance. If you could call it that. The mob on the dance floor was so tight,
we just moved with the crowd.

After a few
songs, we tried to reclaim our table, but in our seats were four burly men
guzzling beer. As we made our way past them in search of another place to sit,
I felt a strong hand on my arm. His fingers were warm, but his grip was a
little tight. “It’s you!” a deep voice shouted beside me.

My gaze
followed the arm up to his face and studied his features, trying to place him.
Short brown hair, tanned skin, dark coffee-colored eyes, strong jaw. Nope,
didn’t recognize him. “Yeah, it’s me. But who are you?” I asked, pulling my arm
free.

“I’m the cop
from outside that publishing building yesterday. Remember? I asked you if you
wanted a ride.”

Oh
,
the hottie cop from my daydream
. “I didn’t recognize you
without your uniform.”

He grinned,
lightening his face. “Here, why don’t you girls sit down. I’ll grab some extra
chairs.”

Debbie and
Brenda eyed me curiously as they plopped down onto the chairs that the cop
brought over from a few tables over. He pulled me onto the one beside him,
while the girls sat across from me. They were sandwiched between a tall blond
who looked like a weightlifter, and a guy with shaggy black hair and piercing
blue eyes. “So, what’s your name?” the hottie cop asked me, leaning close so I
would hear him. He smelled of musk cologne.

I considered
the idea of withholding my name a little longer, but when he smiled, showing
his white perfect teeth, I couldn’t resist. “Abby, what’s yours?”

“Nick.” He took
my hand and instead of shaking it, he held on; he had a warm tight grip. “These
are guys I work with. John, Marty, and Brian.” He pointed as he spoke.

Once I
introduced Debbie and Brenda, everyone seemed to talk at once. They were all
uniform cops who went to school together, but were out celebrating Nick and
Brian making detective. It turned out Brian was the only other single guy, and
somehow Debbie was seated next to him. I overheard Brenda and Marty, the blond
muscle man, comparing notes on their children.

They were fun
to talk to, and the conversation, although loud because of the music, was
great. We had a blast. John taught us a drinking game, using a quarter and a
shot glass. Since I wasn’t very good at it, an hour later I was a little
buzzed.

The
bass-pumping music changed to a slow song. “Dance with me,” Nick whispered,
leaning in close to my ear. Brian was in the middle of a story about a case he
was working on. His piercing blue eyes were animated as he spoke while he ran
his hand through his unruly black hair. I liked Brian instantly; he had a
calming voice and a friendly face. I noticed Debbie leaning into him, and
judging by the look in her eye, I wasn’t the only one with a positive reaction
to him.

As Nick took my
hand to help me off my chair, I felt sudden nerves in the pit of my stomach.
“Sure,” I said quietly, not sure why I answered him, since he was already
leading me to the dance floor.

His arms
wrapped around my waist and I leaned my head against his chest, breathing in
his scent. Warmth emanated from him, and his muscles were hard under my hands
as I laid them on his broad shoulders. I felt safe in his embrace.

We moved
slowly, bumping into other couples occasionally, but I didn’t notice, feeling
content in his arms. While we danced he asked me a few questions. I pulled
back, only to be nudged back against his warm chest.

The next song
was a little faster, but Nick wasn’t concerned. As that one ended, I glanced up
into his intense brown eyes and was surprised by what I saw. His face was soft
and thoughtful as he gazed down at me.

When he started
to lean down, I took a step back, knowing what he was about to do. He gave me a
small smile. “Thank you for the dance,” he whispered into my ear. His breath
was hot against my skin, giving me goose bumps.

He led me back
to the table where John was chugging back a massive mug of beer, while the rest
of the group cheered him on.

“I have to
powder my nose,” Brenda announced before I sat down. “Debbie, Abby, are you
coming?” She glared at me with a twinkle in her eye. I smiled at the men before
following her through the thick crowd.

“Okay, tell us.
What do you think of officer hottie, and how do you know him?” Brenda asked after
shoving me through the dirt-crusted washroom door.

I laughed at
the thought of prolonging my explanation, just to make them suffer. “I saw him
at Debbie’s office, and then later outside, leaning against his car as I was
hailing a cab, just like he said. He asked me if I wanted a ride, I said no
thanks. Besides a bit of flirting, that was it.”

Brenda leaned
into the mirror to fluff up her hair. “Okay, so what do you think of him? You
guys danced a long time.”

“He’s cute. And
he seems nice.”

“Do you think
he’ll ask you out?” Debbie asked, taking out her lipstick and applying a fresh
coat, expertly avoiding a drunk blond who almost bumped into her.

“I think so.
While we were dancing, he asked what I like to do for fun and if I saw a lot of
movies.” The door swung open, hitting the wall with a bang as four loud girls
stumbled in with a fit of laughter. I moved closer to Brenda, who leaned
against the graffiti-covered wall.

“What did he
say when you told him you were a complete hermit?” Debbie asked with a smirk.

After I swatted
her in the head with my clutch purse, I replied, “Anyway, after the last dance
I think he wanted to kiss me, but I pulled away.”

Debbie rolled
her eyes. “Why? It’s just a kiss.”

“I know, but
I’d rather not swap spit with a guy I barely know at some bar when I’m drunk.
It’s sleazy.” I glanced at my friend. “No offense, Debbie.”

She grinned.
“None taken.” Checking her appearance in the mirror one last time, she spun on
her spiked heel. “On that note, let’s go. I think I’m going to get drunk and
kiss Brian.” I laughed as she marched passed me, a woman on a mission. “In a
bar,” she added, pushing the door open before storming out.

Brenda and I
followed her as she stalked up to Brian and planted one right on the mouth.
When she pulled away, Brian’s eyes were as wide as saucers. A slow grin spread
on his face. She glanced at me and smiled.

Laughing, I
took her hand and dragged her to the dance floor, where we danced the rest of
the night, together and with the guys. Nick danced with me during all the slow
songs.

At the end of
the night they walked us out. Nick had pulled me aside, next to the building.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to walk you home? You’d be safe with four cops
around.”

“Thank you, but
no. We’ll be fine, I don’t live far. It was nice meeting you,” I yelled as
Debbie pulled me away.

The streets
weren’t as busy at this time of night. Only a few people hovered on the
sidewalks or in doorways. The clicking of our heels echoed on the pavement as
we found our way home. Arm in arm, the three of us reminisced about the
evening, laughing loudly over the memories.

Even though
Brenda promised Jeff that she would be home, she stayed at my place. Having too
much to drink, neither of them could drive, and the price of a cab all the way
to her suburb would be enough to send one of her children to college.

Movie Day

The next
afternoon, after dropping my sister off, I took her children to a movie, a
cartoon called
Wendy’s Wish
. The film had been made from the first
pre-teen novel I ever wrote. We went for ice cream afterwards at Rainbow Crème,
my favorite ice cream shop that was inconveniently located one block from my
apartment building. Even though I worked a lot, I always seemed to have time
for a trip up the street for two scoops of rocky road. If I was really feeling
dangerous, I’d choose caramel chocolate crunch.

Since the place
was also close to the theatre, the bright orange Formica booths were filled
with ice cream–stained kids that had followed us from the movie.

A little girl
at the table across from us was concentrating hard on her scoop of vanilla,
peering at it through pink heart-shaped lenses. Melted cream dripped from her
chin onto her yellow rubber-duck jacket.