Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play (37 page)

Yes, it’s just how you’d expect my girl to live …

“If you like that sort of thing?” Dan replies, turning
up his nose. He leaves them to their beverages. “See you later.”

***

The drive into the city centre takes twenty minutes
with the traffic. Dan parks adjacent to the small shop on St. Anne’s Road. While
dodging cars he’s turning the keys over and over in his hand; he’s become
desensitized to the pain and is riding on a wave of adrenalin and opportunism.

The keys to the front door and the French doors are
cut in less than twenty minutes, leaving him ample time to get across town to
meet Elise Richards.

The minute the fingers on his watch stretch out into a
vertical line, Dan takes the key from the ignition and prepares to climb out of
his car. The Taylor and Main office is only four doors down from the lay-by,
making it possible for him to see Ms. Richards in his rear view mirror. He
hopes she’s not late, of the many things that tick him off, tardiness comes top
of the list. That and a smart mouth.

Right on time, she appears, carrying an oversized bag,
looking as if she’s about to spend a weekend away at a spa resort. Her blonde
hair is swept back behind her ears, her jeans are a tight fit and she’s made an
effort to look her best. The light from the window display illuminates her
face. Dan hadn’t paid her much attention before but, from this distance she’s
quite pretty, but limp wristed. Dan to the rescue.

“Miss Richards, let me help you, you look like you
have your hands full.”

She’s flustered but happy to let him pull the door to
and struggle with the lock. “Hello Mr. Rizler. Thank you.”

He hands her back the keys. “No problem, it’s Dan
remember? Where do you want to go for a drink?”

“There’s a wine bar around the corner?”

Wine? I had you as more of a lager girl.

“Great.”

She looks at him from under her fringe. “I need to put
this bag in my car first.” Her car alarm flashes next to his recovering BMW.

“Nice car.” Dan nods towards the black Golf GTI, less
than a year old. “Jeez. You must have sold a lot of houses?”

She seems a little embarrassed and flushes the colour
of a sugar coated pear drop. “Not really, it was a birthday present from a
friend.”

“I wish I had a friend like that,” Dan declares,
expecting to hear more. He waits in vain

She slams down the boot and turns to him. “I’m ready
for that drink now.”

“Then lead the way.” He stretches out his hand and
allows it to remain behind her, not touching, just making it clear to anyone
watching, they are a together.

The wine bar is only 100 yards away, past the row of
shops. It’s the kind of establishment he would go out of his way to avoid,
normally; all canvases, candles and cushions. The pretty barmaid looks scarcely
old enough to be serving drinks and the young man opening up a bottle of Pinot
Gregio has barely the muscular strength to extract the cork. Dan is a fish out
of water.

They settle themselves on a curved red, tapestry seat
to the left of the doorway; far enough away to avoid the autumn chill but close
enough to the bar to suggest a lack of romantic involvement.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Do they serve lager?”

I knew it!

“I hope so.” Dan whips up an agreeable smile.

“Then that’s what I’ll have.”

A couple of minutes later, he returns with two tall,
decorative glasses of lager that are golden and iridescent against the
flickering tea light on the mosaic table. He wants to say,
“Do you know how
much they charged me for these?”
Instead all he says is, “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

An observer would easily pick-up on the newness of
their relationship. They are virtually strangers and that’s exactly how they
look: awkward and uncomfortable. Neither of them wanting to prompt conversation
for fear they may say they wrong thing.

Dan bites the bullet; “I didn’t think you’d say yes
when I invited you for a drink.”

Sensing an approaching compliment, Elise responds by
putting down her heavy glass and turning to him. “Why not?”

“You must get hit on all the time and I’m not what
you’d call dating material.”

“I’m flattered you think that, but you’re wrong, on
both counts.” She reaches into her bag and checks her phone. He’s surprised by
her directness. He’d under-estimated her, she’s not a woman to be messed with.
He likes that.

“Thanks. I’m not much of a socialiser, you might have
guessed that?”

“Socialising is over-rated. I don’t get out much
either. I used to, but not anymore.” Her words take her attention away from the
conversation to another dimension. Her devil-may-care past perhaps?

“How long have you worked at the estate agents?” He
focuses on his lager, taking a long, refreshing gulp and enjoying the coolness
of the glass against his right palm.

“For almost eight years, I’m hoping to have my own
branch soon. I’ve attended lots of courses and they say I have a great future
ahead of me.” She seems genuinely excited at the prospect and then, realising
how animated she had become, looks down and settles her hands on her lap.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You sorted me out quick
enough.” Dan lifts up his glass. “Thanks.” She does the same and gives him a
‘you’re welcome’ smile.

“What about you. You must have had an interesting
life?”

What the fuck does that mean?

“If you mean as a boxer, then yes. I s’pose I have.”

“Yes, that’s what I mean.” She focuses on his
features, at a nose that has been broken and mended four times and the small
scars around his eye-brows. “Were you any good?”

Well yeah …

“I had my moments … fought at Wembley stadium and
sparred with Mike Tyson once.” He throws her a wink and picks up his half empty
glass. “Didn’t make enough money to retire on, but I don’t complain.”

“At least you had a go.” Her mouth curves into a half
smile. “Most people accept their lot without so much as a whimper. You stepped
into the ring and fought back.” She smiles quickly and returns to her drink.

You’re right about that …

He accepts the compliment. “I s’pose.”

She checks her phone again and, visibly disappointed,
throws it into her bag.

“Expecting a call?” Dan enquires casually.

“Not exactly. I texted a friend and haven’t heard back
from them yet.” Realising her rudeness, she pulls down her blouse and angles
her body in his direction. “Ever had a friend who let you down?”

What the fuck?

“Sure … that’s why I keep myself to myself, I roll
with the punches.” He does a kind of sparring move, fists close to his chest.

She sniggers and shakes her head from left to right,
finding him comical in a friendly sort of way. “I’ll leave you to your
memories. I’m going to powder my nose.”

He follows her with his eyes all the way to the end of
the bar, sees her squeeze between four young men, throwing back shots and
laughing out loud. Left alone with his thoughts, he’s replaying their
conversation; he’s good at that, remembering words and faces.

As a rule, Dan Rizler doesn’t rile easily, not as far
as fighting is concerned; his ‘weapons of mass destruction’ could cause serious
damage if he let them fly. Better to keep them under wraps, under-control.
Usually, his size is deterrent enough, but these fuckers by the bar are
seriously pushing his buttons. He’s come for a quiet drink. If he’d wanted
rowdy, he’d have gone to a bar with big screens and a karaoke machine.

When Elise returns from the bathroom, the noisy
foursome are ready for her; they block her path and ensnare her with their
crude suggestions. Dan gives them time to back-off and to see how she handles
herself.  She eyes them with disdain and tries to push her way through, but one
of them takes hold of her arm. That’s it!

Dan steps from his seat, knocking a chair over in his
wake and approaches the boisterous crowd. Without a word, he takes hold of the
hand on Elise’s arm, removes it and slowly crushes it in his oversized paw. “I
don’t think the lady wants to play boys.”

Crouching, his victim calls out in agony.

“Now is there anything you’d like to say to this
lovely lady before you leave?” The timbre of his voice is chilling and, when
it’s coupled with a flat smile that doesn’t even touch his eyes, they have no
misgivings about his malevolence: he’s capable of anything.

Not surprisingly, they apologise, drink up and make a
speedy exit. One of them nursing a hand which will probably be useless for several
days.

Elise sits herself down, unruffled by the incident. “I
didn’t need rescuing you know. I was perfectly capable of handling them
myself.”

Dan didn’t doubt that for a minute. “I could see that,
but I was getting lonely over here and they were taking up too much of your
time.”

“Then you should learn to be more patient Dan – it’s a
virtue you know?”

Tell me about it!

“I’ll bear that in mind next time, Elise.”

“Next time?” She feigns surprise.

“Yeah, Saturday, you eat lunch don’t you?”

“Was that an invitation?”

He nods and empties his glass. “Don’t you shut-up shop
at 2 o’clock? I’ll pick you up and take you for something to eat, be your
bodyguard.”

She cannot hide her amusement. “I don’t need a
bodyguard.”

“Well you’ve got one anyway.”

Elsie places her hand on his arm feeling the hard
sinews beneath her fingers. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Come on, I need a smoke. I’ll walk you
back to your fancy car.” Once again, he holds the door open for her, detecting
a grateful smile.

It’s a short walk to the lay-by where their cars are
parked and Dan edges away from her, not wanting to shake hands. He’s managed to
keep his infirmity under-wraps but his palms are super-sensitive. As soft as
her hands may be, even the slightest touch will cause him to grimace and the
last thing he wants is to be the wounded bodyguard. That just wouldn’t do. He
watches her shoot off into the night, brakes squealing, wheels blazing.

When Dan returns to Elm Gardens, the two technicians
are at the bottom of the stairs chatting with Pat. He’s less than surprised to
see her there, she must have been itching to strike up a conversation. He
greets the bunch with a friendly smile.

“All done?”

The younger of the two lifts his mug of tea. “Just
stopping for a tea break, still got loads to do. Expect we’ll be here ‘till
bloody midnight at this rate.”

“Whatever it takes eh? Did you manage to pull the
wires through?”

“Eventually. Got to leave it tidy though. Orders from
the top.” The experienced technician raises his head to the heavens. “Looks ok
though.” He wanders into the apartment, proud of his handy work.

Nonchalantly, Dan follows him, hands in pockets,
yawning. He looks up at the neatly positioned box to the right hand side of the
window frame, tucked away behind the curtain. “What’s happened to the window?”
Dan asks, watching as the guy nearly chokes on his tea.

“Shit! I’ve not cracked the glass?”

As he walks over to the window, Dan slips the keys
into the tray by the door and steps backwards laughing. “Just messing around.”

“You had me going there, had visions of having to fit
a bloody window as well as an alarm. Would have meant pulling an all-nighter.”
He exhales long and hard and scratches his head. “Back to work.”

“I’ve leave you to it. Give me a knock if you want a
brew.” He collects the two empty mugs and trots off upstairs. From the back,
it’s impossible to see the width of his smile and the roguish sparkle that has
returned to his eyes, but it’s there.

It’s seven o’clock, I’ve taken too long
showering and getting ready, but I’m pleased with the result. I’ve selected a
little black dress by Donna Karan, it’s a lovely fit and the off the shoulder
design helps to create a flattering silhouette with my hair up. Black Jimmy
Choos, black clutch and I’m done. My new platinum jewellery completes the
ensemble. I’m a little light-headed after the champagne but in a happy way.
Once I’ve eaten I’ll feel fine.

Ayden showered quickly, probably so he
could get some work done before I appeared. I’m getting attuned to his little
ways; he likes to give the illusion of care-free leadership but I’ve never
known a more committed individual.

My instincts were right; he’s back in the
study having a heated conversation with someone.
“For fuck’s sake Jake. Get
on it, what do you mean where am I? I’m in Rome with Beth ... so just take care
of it. OK? No, I won’t be taking calls, we’re going out to dinner. Text me when
you have news.”