Sidekick Returns (7 page)

I put my smirk away. I was trying to be serious, but I was already so close to falling apart. First Ryder, and now Pierce? No. I could not let this happen. ‘I'm sorry. I just think maybe you're looking at this all wrong.'

‘I am?'

‘Opposites attract.'

He pushed his glasses up his nose with his index finger. ‘Actually, studies show that opposites don't make for successful relationships.'

‘Studies shmudies,' I said with a hand wave.

‘Bremy, I'm just trying to be practical. Why would either one of us want to invest in a relationship that so clearly isn't going to work?'

Oh my God! This
was
a break-up speech! And we weren't even officially going out!

I couldn't believe it. I mean, after this evening, I was in no position to defend this whole dream I had of being a crime fighter. In fact, I was almost tempted to tell him I was going to give it all up and start flossing regularly too—once I could afford floss—but I just couldn't. Sure, Ryder had refused to even acknowledge my existence tonight, but there had to be a reasonable explanation. Something was going on with her. There just had to be. But I couldn't lose Pierce. And yet I couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear either. I needed a different approach. ‘Well, Mr Practical. I can think of a whole slew of reasons.' His eyes widened and curved in a hopeful puppy dog expression.

‘One,' I said, looking at him sideways, ‘I think we can both agree that it would be fun.'

He smiled faintly.

‘Two,' I said slowly, trying to stall. It was hard to think, given that the words
hot monkey sex
kept popping into my mind. ‘I think you're pretty awesome.'

‘I think you're pretty awesome too, but—'

‘Uh-uh! Stop it right there. No interrupting a person in list mode. It's an unspoken rule. Besides, I didn't finish my point. I just so happen to think you are sweet, funny, intelligent, filled right up to the top with integrity and ridiculously pretty in a muscular way.' I casually walked my fingers up his forearm. ‘Now, don't you want to date someone who thinks all of those things about you? Or are you like some sort of angsty teenage girl?'

He blinked a few times.

‘I did it again,' I said, slapping my forehead. ‘Now I've been racist towards teenage girls. Or biased. Or something.' My hand flopped back into my lap. ‘You see how much I need your presence in my life? In fact, you could almost consider it your civic duty.'

‘My civic duty?' he repeated, raising his eyebrows and giving me a half-smile.

‘I could go either way at this point, really. Just look at how much time I spend with mobsters and strippers.'

‘Strippers?'

Man, had I still not told him that I worked at The Pink Beaver? I studied Pierce's face. Judging by the look I saw there, it was probably best to leave that for another time.

‘It's a metaphor,' I said quickly. ‘I need you, Pierce Stricklin, and I think you need me.' Ooh, that sounded really good. I wasn't sure if it was at all true, but it sounded really convincing.

Pierce rubbed his forehead. ‘I don't know, Bremy.'

‘Let me ask you something. In your gut, or heart, or whatever part of
you
likes
me
, do you want to see me again?'

‘Yes, of course I do. I've never met anyone like you! You're fun, and crazy, and so full of life, but—'

‘No buts! It's settled,' I said, picking up my cutlery.

‘Bremy,' he said, trailing my name off into a rather sad silence.

‘Nope. Settled.'

Pierce sighed. ‘I have some news about Ryder.'

I nodded but didn't look up. ‘She's been spotted around town lately. It seems she's back to her regular behaviour. Watching over events where there might be trouble. That kind of thing.'

I nodded again, maybe a little too quickly. My neck felt very tight.

‘I know you thought that maybe something was going on with Ryder, maybe something to do with your father, but I don't think that's the case.' He paused a moment, then said, ‘Despite all my reservations, I don't enjoy saying this. I know how much this
dream
means to you, and I don't want to be selfish, but given what we were just talking about … maybe, maybe it's time for you to start thinking about a different future.' I noticed the hopeful tone in his voice. ‘It kind of seems like Ryder is sending you a message.'

I shook my head. ‘No. That's not it.' I felt heat once again flood my cheeks. ‘You weren't at the mask-giving ceremony. Actually, it was already my mask, they just gave it back to me, and—'

‘And what about Choden?' he asked. ‘Have you heard from him?'

I froze, willing the tear ducts in my eyes to behave themselves. He had me there. For weeks now, I had been dying to see Choden's smiling face. But I hadn't. No visits. No phone calls. No letters. But then again, I didn't get mail. At least I didn't think I got mail.

‘Pierce, you don't understand. I need to see this through. Not only do I want to make up for some of the evil my father has inflicted on the world, but I need to prove something to myself. That I'm more than just a—'

‘Bremy, you don't have to prove anything to anyone.'

‘But I do! And I don't want to have to choose between you and, well, fighting crime.' God, when would that stop sounding so funny coming out of my mouth?

‘I don't want you to either, but—' A buzzing noise came from Pierce's direction. He slid his phone out from his pocket and gave it a brief glance.

‘Bremy, I am so sorry. Normally, I would never do this, but it's work,' he said, getting to his feet. ‘I'll just step outside.'

I nodded. Well, this evening was turning out to be a real bummer. My solo crime-fighting mission had been a bust. My wrestling debut equally so. Ryder was … well, no sense in rehashing that. And now the man of my dreams wanted me to give up on my other dreams. It couldn't get much worse.

I broke a piece off from a bread roll and stuffed it in my mouth. It even hurt to chew. Pierce returned minutes later. ‘Is everything alright?' I asked as he sat back down across from me. God, it was so unfair. No man could ever look as handsome as he did pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘Bremy, we have a problem.'

‘I know. I know,' I moaned. ‘I want to make this work so badly.'

‘Me too, but—'

I screwed my eyebrows up into a sad peak. ‘But there's the crime fighting.'

‘I know,' he said quickly, then added, ‘but when you were in the wrestling ring tonight—'

‘And then there's your issues with danger,' I said, waving my hands a little.

‘Bremy, seriously, at the ring tonight—'

‘And then there's the passion. The passion that threatens to consume us both.'

‘—You didn't happen to go by the name Little Chicken?'

Chapter 7

‘Wait,' I said, successfully derailed. ‘Did you just say Little Chicken?'

He nodded. ‘The paper wants me to come in and do a story on an underground fighting ring. Apparently they had an undercover photographer at the match tonight, and they have some pictures, including one of a wrestler who goes by the name Little Chicken?'

I pushed my plate back and thunked my head down on the table, making all the silverware clatter.

‘I take it this is not a picture you want making it to press?'

I rolled my forehead against the tablecloth. On the one hand, I couldn't see how it would really be a problem, but then again, on the other, someone could put two and two together and realise Little Chicken was also The Sidekick,
and
Lee Lee—or maybe it was Daisy—had recognised me as that socialite bitch,
and
all of those connections could not be good … not with my father's presence always looming in the background. Did he want me to humiliate myself? Or was he still worried about the family image? I was so confused. The one thing I did know for sure was that I wanted to build up The Sidekick's credibility, and being known as Little Chicken was not the way to do that. ‘Not really.'

‘Maybe I should go in and see what I can do.'

I flung my head up. Pierce was already waving down a server for the check. ‘I don't want you to sacrifice your journalistic integrity.'

‘Bremy, I still care about you.' He planted his palms on the table before looking up to meet my gaze. ‘I would really like it if we could be friends.'

‘Bite your filthy tongue,' I said with a gasp. ‘What a horrible thing to say.'

He smiled. ‘We should call it a night. I really need to get over to the paper if I'm going to stop Little Chicken from going to press. But I think it's only fair for me to tell you that—'

‘Bup! Bup! Bup!' I said, waving my hand at his face. I did not want to continue this conversation. I did not like where it was leading. ‘You don't need to tell me now. We can talk about it Friday.'

‘Friday?'

‘Oh, didn't I mention I was invited to that museum event too?' I gave myself a mental high five. Now that was some quick thinking on my part. Sure, Ryder had gotten away from me tonight, but there was no way I was letting Pierce slip out of my grasp.

‘No, you didn't.'

‘Huh,' I said. ‘Well, I am. Been on my calendar for months. You know, it's almost like the universe is trying to tell us something.'

He stood and moved to pull my chair out for me. ‘Yes, like I am in so much trouble.'

‘It's open to interpretation,' I said, getting to my feet. ‘Oh, and Pierce,' I added, shivering as he placed his warm hand on the small of my back, ‘one more thing.'

‘Mm?'

‘Does everybody get mail?'

***

Like a true gentleman, Pierce opted to take me home in a cab before he went to the office. I was truly grateful. My life as a pampered socialite had not prepared my feet for the amount of walking a struggling crime fighter had to do in an average day.

As the cab pulled in front of my building, I felt Pierce's hand tighten around mine. At first I thought he was being romantic, then it hit me. He had never seen my place before. I had always made excuses to avoid this moment.

I scanned his face. ‘Pierce?' His eyes moved to meet mine.

‘Let's move in together.'

‘What?' My heart skidded to stop.

‘You can move in tonight.'

‘Um, I thought we had some issues to work out?'

‘Meter's running,' the cabbie said over his shoulder.

‘I can't let you sleep in this place.'

I patted him on his knee. ‘Oh, it's fine.' I realised my patting had turned to caressing and quickly pulled my hand away.

‘Are those bloodstains on that building?' he asked, leaning around me to peer out the window.

‘No,' I said with a scoff. Wait … were they? ‘No, no. There's too much of it. Don't be ridiculous.'

Pierce turned his rounded eyes on me.

‘Really,' I said. ‘I think this is like Mr Pushkin's territory. If anyone made trouble, it would be like starting a mob war.'

‘You are not making me feel any better about this.'

He leaned across me again to get a better look. I kissed him on the nose. ‘A friendly thank you for the dinner we didn't get to eat,' I said.

He closed his eyes. ‘Really? Because it felt more like a
don't worry your pretty little head about this
.'

‘You two are adorable, but I got a serious haemorrhoid that's starting to itch,' the cabbie shouted back. ‘What are we doing?'

I opened the door. ‘I'll be fine Pierce.' I stepped out onto the grimy street. ‘Really.' I shut the door before he could get out.

He rolled down the window. ‘Bremy, wait,' he said, leaning out. ‘About the museum. I don't … I don't want to lead you on … or lead myself on. I …'

‘Let's talk about it Friday,' I said. Surely I could think of something to convince him we were meant to be by then.

Pierce crinkled his forehead sceptically, but smiled.

I leaned down closer. ‘I forgot to say thank you for the cab.'

He looked like he was about to say something, but I cut him off with a kiss. Hot tingles ran over my body. Kissing Pierce was like bathing in melted chocolate.

‘Seriously! I have Vesuvius on my ass!' the cabbie yelled.

I leaned back and watched the taxi pull away, giving Pierce a final wave before turning to the door. I let out a happy sigh. Sure, a crime fighter and a reporter seemed like an unlikely mix, but maybe we could set a precedent.

I hurried over to the door, unlocked it and stepped into the foyer of my building. I took a moment to really look around. I had never lingered there before, given the ever-flickering fluorescent lights overhead, but a thought was niggling in my brain.

Boxes!

I ran over to the wall filled with all little inlaid cubes with keyholes. I could have sworn they had never been there before. I peered into one of the cloudy plastic windows.

Mail!

So I did get mail. Sure, I could have beaten myself up over this, but, really, I grew up with an army of servants, excuse me, domestic workers, who catered to my every need. How was I supposed to know how the real world worked?

I ran my fingers along the boxes, peering into the tiny plastic windows on each. Hmm, they all had numbers. Of course! My apartment number! I scurried over to the one I figured must be mine. Huh. It was stuffed. What could all that be? I tapped lightly on its little glass window, but it wasn't revealing any of its secrets.

Now, how to open it?

Suddenly the building's front door opened, startling me. In walked a petite young woman, dressed like an adorable nerdy bookworm with a pleated shirt and knee socks. Her gaze popped up to mine. ‘Oh, hello.'

‘Um, hi.'

‘I'm new in the building. Just moved in,' she said brightly. ‘I work at the library down the street.'