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Andrea
“ARE YOU CRYING?” LIAR asked in my ear.
I sighed even as I kind of smiled. “Well, yeah. You just told me your Gran died, and I knew you wanted her to be around for Christmas...” I trailed off because a fresh wave of tears were slipping out of my eyes.
Liar pounced on my silence. “Babe, you never even met her.”
If I weren’t holding my cell phone to my ear, I would’ve folded my arms across my chest. Seriously, he was starting to tick me off. “That doesn’t matter,” I said haughtily. “She meant something to you, and you mean something to me. Plus, I know this can’t be the least bit easy on you, so it makes me sad.”
Liar made a strange sound and then it sounded like the phone was being jostled gently. I heard what was probably the click of a door, and then he spoke. “I ‘mean something’ to you? What do I mean to you, Andrea?”
Well, now I’d done it. “I don’t want to get into this on the phone, Liar.” And I didn’t because telling him I loved him was something that was far better delivered in person than on the phone.
“What do I mean to you, babe?”
I decided to pull out the big guns and use his given name. “Jim, this isn’t —”
“Asked you a question, Andi. Be nice if you gave me an answer.”
“You know what you mean to me,” I hedged.
“Do I? Spell it out for me, anyway.”
My sigh was mixed with a growl. “You said you were falling for me. Well, I already fell for you, Jim.”
He was silent for quite some time. “Are you there?” I asked.
His gruff voice said, “Yeah. Anything else I mean to you?”
“I love you, okay?” I said in a low voice. “That isn’t something I should share for the first time over the phone, you know.”
“Fuck that,” he growled. “I love you, too, Andrea.”
More tears filled my eyes as happy surprise filled me from top to toe. “You do?” I asked.
“Fuck yeah. Hell, I asked Gran to stick around a little longer so she could meet you because I knew she’d love you as much as I do. She told me to hang onto you.”
It was a good thing I had no more appointments that afternoon. My face was soaked with tears because hearing her advice to him about me, sight unseen, brought another deluge of tears.
After a moment, Liar said, “Anyway, Dad wants me and Beast to stick around until after the will’s read. Won’t be headed back until sometime next week.”
“Really?” I asked, genuinely surprised.
“Yeah. Probably be good for me and Beast to help our dads with their grief. They’re acting tough about it, but it ain’t gonna be easy to go through all her stuff. Neither one of them can stick around much longer either, so if we need to list her place, it’ll be good to have all hands on deck.”
I did not envy him the days ahead of him. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could head down and help you out, but I’m booked solid this week. And next Friday, I’m back at the poker room because Paula’s headed out of town for the end of Hanukkah.”
“Fuck,” I heard Liar hiss. “I forgot about your poker room schedule. If I’m not back by Friday, look for Vamp and Rage or Cal and Rage.”
My head tilted to the side, not that Liar could see it. “Call me crazy, but after what you did to him on Black Friday, I don’t think I’ve got anything to worry about where Gil is concerned.”
“Well, you are definitely crazy. Bottom line, Gil Grant is not necessarily the only threat to you. That poker room ain’t the best place for a woman like you to be at midnight. So, keep an eye out for Rage along with either Vamp or Cal.”
“Liar, what are you talking about with this ‘not the only threat to me’ business?”
Liar sighed, and I could sense his impatience. “Humor me, baby. Please.”
It was probably his ‘please’ that did it, but I acquiesced. “Okay, Liar. I’ll look for them on Friday.”
***
IT WAS MY FRIDAY NIGHT at the poker room. Liar had called me the night before and said he’d be driving back up sometime today. Unfortunately though, even if he was in town, he wasn’t certain he could get by to see me at the end of my shift. I understood that. He had been out of town for over a week, and there was something to be said for finally getting back to your own bed and back to your own routine.
Even if it made me selfish as hell, I was anxious to see him because telling him I loved him in person would be much more gratifying for a variety of reasons. I noticed it was just after nine o’clock as I was taking my second break of the night; and since I didn’t get to eat at seven, I was beelining toward the stairs. A man who looked vaguely familiar stepped in my path.
“Andrea. Shayla introduced us the first time you were here. How are things going for you?”
I realized it was Mr. Allen, and he was just as well dressed tonight as he was the first time I met him. Tonight he was sporting a charcoal gray blazer over a white dress shirt with faint lavender and blue vertical stripes. The top three buttons were undone, and not only could I see the thick gold chain I noticed before, but also a smattering of his gray and white chest hair. Meh. And much like our first meeting, something about him still rubbed me the wrong way.
“Things are going, Mr. Allen. Sorry to cut this short, but I didn’t get a chance to eat earlier, and I’m going to pass out if I don’t get a sugar fix if nothing else.”
He smiled sympathetically, then waved an arm behind him as if to usher me out. “By all means, dear. We can’t have a masseuse fall out on the floor.”
I smiled back and went to grab some food. The entire time I ate, I wondered why he bugged me. Something was amiss, and I could not put my finger on it. Shaking my head, I put it out of my mind. I didn’t have to work with him, and he wasn’t someone I actually knew, so it didn’t matter if he raised my internal red flags.
When I returned to the second floor and the poker room, Mr. Allen stopped me again.
“I wanted to ask you about the commotion two weeks ago. What was that all about? I noticed there was a man with sights set on you, but then many very tough looking gentlemen escorted him out. Do you have troubles, dear?”
I didn’t like him calling me ‘dear.’ It was senseless, I knew, because it was a throw away endearment and many people used it all the time. Hell, a waitress could say that to me, and I wouldn’t think twice. This guy doing it though, I suddenly realized what I didn’t like about him. He was fake. I shoved all of that out of my mind so I could end this conversation as quickly as I could.
“No, sir. I don’t have troubles. That was someone who was unaware that I was here. I have a restraining order against him for good reason, and my boyfriend and his brothers made sure the man knew where things stood. It was nice chatting with you, but I really have to get back to the floor.”
There was a man who looked vaguely familiar waving at me frantically as I moved around the tables. I made my way to him.
“It’s about time you came back to be my nurse, lady! Sent my wife to see you back when you were a regular, and then you had to go and abandon us.” The moment he started speaking, I recognized his voice.
With a sideways look, I said, “You are...you’re Jeff, aren’t you?”
“Yep. Lost over a hundred pounds.”
My eyes bulged. No wonder I didn’t recognize him. He not only lost the bulk he was carrying on his frame, but he lost weight in his face as well. Back when I was working here on the regular, he also had a full grizzly-style beard. Now, he was clean shaven, so that kept me from recognizing him too.
“Good for you. That couldn’t have been easy to do. Were you waving at me frantically to get a massage for yourself or are you looking to get a gift card for your wife?”
Jeff barked with laughter. “No. I’m sure the wife would love to get another massage out of me, but no. I need you to help out my mojo and rub my neck. Same rates as Paula?”
“Yes, sir,” I said and got to work.
The poker tables were funny to me. Funny in a strange way, not so much a comical way, because no sooner had I started working the tension out of Jeff’s neck and shoulders than he started winning. He must have dragged in three pots before I was done with him. If you watched ESPN and other poker shows out there, you would think that the good players were number crunching sharks who were biding their time to take you down. Apparently, that was not the case in the Best Bet Orange Park location. I was rubbing my hands together with hand sanitizer and ready to make my way to another table when the man catty-corner from Jeff lifted his chin at me dramatically.
I looked at him, and he spoke. “I’m next,” he demanded.
I didn’t care for demanding people most of the time, but one chair massage was pretty much the same as the next chair massage.
Just over two hours later, Shayla had taken her supplies down to her vehicle. There were still at least seven tables going strong, but the requests for massages were scarce. Grabbing my bag, I went downstairs looking for Vamp, Rage or Cal.
The Best Bet used to be a Kennel club only, and the late Sixties construction belied this. The main walkway from the lower level out to the parking lot had a huge overhang that was lit with criminally bright florescent lights. I was three feet into the walkway when Mr. Allen turned and put his hand on my forearm.
“I’m so glad I was able to catch you, Andrea.”
Couldn’t say I felt the same way, but I kept that to myself. I smiled and said, “Catch me you did. Is something wrong, Mr. Allen?”
Mr. Allen hesitated before answering, but I wasn’t watching his face. I was busy scanning the parking lot for motorcycles. Any motorcycles would be good at that junction as far as I was concerned, but none were there to be seen.
His hand on my arm pulled me closer to him, and I was forced to pay more attention to him. “That man, Jeff, who called you over after you spoke to me, he’s quite funny, isn’t he?”
I twisted my head so that I was giving him a mild side-eye, and reluctantly said, “I suppose. What are you getting at?”
“He was funny. Nothing like the man your boyfriend shoved out of the building. Somehow, he did all of that without drawing the first bit of attention from security. But then I realized it was once again the Riot MC and their extensive connections.”
A shiver stole up my spine. The tone of his voice changed when he said, ‘Riot MC,’ and I knew it was not a good sign.
“What is your problem?” I asked, my voice a blend of a hiss and a whisper.
His face lit with a grin that anyone could see was maniacal. “Well. Isn’t that the million dollar question. Problem is, Andi, I don’t have just any one problem, I have several. Lucky for me, you seem to be the key to at least two or three of my problems.”
He said all of this leaning into me bodily, and his hand was still on my forearm. I desperately wanted to wrench my arm away from his grip, but instinctively I knew that was a bad idea. After a deep breath that did nothing to calm me, I said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The maniacal but ugly grin turned devious. “That’s quite all right. All you have to do is follow my instructions.”
None of this was making any sense to me, but I could hear the roar of Harley engines in the distance. Relief coursed up my spine and made me braver.
“I don’t think so. My boyfriend and his—”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t know shit,” Mr. Allen snapped.
My eyes went wide, and I had to fight to keep my mouth from falling open. As it was, I knew my lips were parted.
“Now, like I said. Follow my instructions. Laugh, and if your airhead brain can’t manage that, smile like you mean it, Andrea Paglia.”
Well, shit. I didn’t know this man knew my last name. I had to wonder what else he knew about me, but his fingers squeezed in a way they were biting into my skin, so I forced a nervous and fake smile onto my face.
To my extreme dismay, he then leaned in and kissed each of my cheeks in turn. “Keep smiling, Ms. Paglia.” He looked over my shoulder, and the engines of the bikes were louder. “My work here is done.”
I walked to the end of the overhang and saw three bikes idling. Vamp was astride his bike, a behemoth of a man I had never seen before was idling on the outside of Vamp, and Liar was closest to me with a face like thunder. Dread pooled in my stomach, and somehow, I knew, Mr. Allen had just played me.
Liar
Liar yearned to roar off and never see Andrea again. Of all the ways for shit to go bad, this never entered his mind. She approached him and fear was written all over her face. Good. She needed to be scared right now because he was royally fuckin’ pissed.
“Can’t believe you broke my trust. Clearly, you’re a Grade-A fuckin’ liar,” he said when she was close enough.
“What in the universe are you talking about? I haven’t lied. I don’t know what Mr. Allen was doing just now, but I really—”
“Save it,” he yelled. Mr. Allen, that was fucking rich. Yes, some people in the South would refer to people as “Mr.” or “Mrs.” and then their first names, but no way would Leventon allow himself to be called by that.
Liar was ready to go, but he had to get this shit off his chest. “I asked you if you met Leventon. My brothers asked you if you met Leventon. I told you to stay the fuck away from that asshole, and he’s kissin’ your fuckin’ cheeks like you’re a friend. Wouldn’t surprise me if you were in on the fuckin’ shit bein’ pulled on me.”
Andrea looked confused, but Liar realized she wasn’t just a liar, but also a fuckin’ actress. She was opening her mouth to defend herself, but he made sure he spoke first. “Mark my words, bitch. I don’t ever want to see your sorry ass again.”
Liar didn’t give a shit about keeping formation with his brothers. He burned rubber through the parking lot and made his way to the interstate.
