Chapter 6

THE GLASS TOWERS OF MANHATTAN shone in the dusk, pouring their cheery illumination out over the city streets. Phil stared up at the skyscrapers from the passenger seat of Crawley’s white Eclipse as she grinned at him from the driver’s seat.

“Penny for your thoughts, sweetie,” Crawley said as he drew his gaze back to her. She had put her hair into a long braid, baring her smooth neck and shoulders. A pink printed tank top worn over a lace camisole covered her torso, showing just enough cleavage to be sexy without giving away too much. The muscles in her shapely legs played as she worked the clutch, visible due to the shortness of her pleated skirt. The bright colors contrasted nicely with her light brown skin, almost as well as the pale pink eye shadow she wore. Her lips glistened with scarlet gloss, and she was wearing her favorite earrings, golden danglers in the shape of black widow spiders.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You,” he said, and she could feel how much he meant it. “I’m about three seconds away from attacking you.”

“Promises, promises.”

“You’re so hot…”

“Thanks.”

“Steve says that Autumn hates being called that. Hot, I mean.”

“It’s a little…condescending, I guess. If some construction worker hollered it at me, I might be offended. But when you say it, I like it.”

“Look,” he said, coughing a bit, “about the other night—”

“Let’s not talk about it.” Crawley shook her head.

“I do love you.” Phil sounded confident. If he’d stopped talking right then, she’d have been willing to forget their fight entirely. Then he had to go and ruin it. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s a forever kind of love, but—”

“Forever kind of love?” She gripped the wheel tightly, the leather creaking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I didn’t…” Phil pulled at his collar. “That didn’t come out right. I just…I’m new at this, all right? I’m not Casanova, or whatever…”

“Phil, I don’t want you to be Casanova, I want you to be yourself.” She forced her voice to be even we she spoke again. “If…if you’re not happy with things—”

“I am happy!” Phil laughed nervously. “I’m so happy it scares the crap out of me!”

“Saying it’s one thing, but do you mean it?” They drove in silence for several blocks, the streets slipping silently by.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Crawley shot him a sharp glare, and he pulled his hand away from her thigh.

“Sorry, I was just—”

“Just what? Trying to distract me from being mad at you?”

“I was trying to show you my…” He laughed. “Wait, was it working? Distracting you, I mean?”

He looked so sweet when he was thinking dirty thoughts, that she felt her anger abate. For a time, at least.

They pulled into a pay parking lot, Phil handing his credit card to Crawley so she could swipe it. She drove the Eclipse slowly, starting to park in a spot quite near the entrance. She caught Phil staring down at her legs once more, forehead glistening with sweat.

“Wait,” he said, “park further back, maybe under that light that’s burned out.”

“What? Why? Do you want someone to jack my ride?”

“It’s a guarded lot,” he said, motioning to the tired, heavy set man sitting in a booth near the street. “Besides, I want to get a little taste before we go into the bar…”

“Oh, you think you deserve it?” Crawley put the car in reverse. She parked in the spot Phil had indicated, the nearest car thirty feet away.

“No one deserves you,” said Phil, blushing a bit.

Crawley turned a surprised, pleased glance his way.

“You just got yourself about a thousand points, hon.”

“Oh? What can I redeem them for?”

“Something soft and slippery,” she whispered, leaning over the gearshift to kiss him on the lips. Her tongue was vigorous, tasting the mint on his breath. Phil put his hand on her thigh and rubbed it heavily. She gasped at his touch, trying to embrace him more fully even though the confined quarters made the motion awkward. Both of them broke contact and laughed.

“I guess this isn’t going to work,” she said, staring to open her door.

“No, wait. This can work!”

“Oh, nothing human was ever meant to sit in the back seat of an Eclipse, hon.”

“Come here,” he said, taking her by the hand and pulling her toward him. His other hand was busy with the thin leather belt that held up his black dress pants. Crawley slithered over the gearshift and sat on his lap. She raised up on her knees so he could finish his task, then remained that way while he hiked up her skirt. The sight of her lace pink thong and her musky smell had him fully at the ready. He fumbled with her panties for a moment before she reached down and provided assistance.

“They unsnap,” she said with a sensuous laugh. Phil’s fingers found the tiny buttons and undid them. Her shaved nether lips were already damp, and they slid their bodies together easily. Crawley grunted as he entered her, throwing her head back and setting the sun visor in disarray.

Crawley tried to give the occasional glance to the parking lot, to make sure they weren’t going to be caught, but her body was in full control. The Eclipse began to rock and sway as she ground her hips into his. She wrapped her arms around his slender neck and squeezed their chests tightly together. His hand rand down her spine, and his lips were buried within her cleavage.

“Oh my god,” she said, before a long wail escaped her throat. She flung her body back in an arch, her left hand hitting the steering wheel and setting off the horn while her shoulder knocked the rear view mirror off the windshield with a thunk. She then collapsed forward, putting her head on his shoulder and sighing.

“Your car…” He looked at the mirror lying on the dashboard, biting his lower lip.

“Never mind that…Oh, Phil, that was so wrong!”

“It’s a brave new world…we’re expanding our set list, adding a new member…maybe it’s time I stepped up my game, huh?”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” She kissed him on the lips. “You don’t need game; you’re smart and sweet and you take good care of me. That’s all a girl wants.”

“And a big bank account,” Phil said as she carefully climbed back into her own seat.

“I’ve got my own money.” Her tone was plaintive, but her lips were parted in a slight smile.

“Forgetting something?”

“I’ve got the keys right here.” Crawley jangled them in her hand.

“No,” said Phil, picking up her discarded undergarments, “your underwear?”

“Oh.” Going commando like a slut? Her mother would just die.

At least I wouldn’t be wearing dirty underwear if I got hit by a car. She thought.

She glanced around the parking lot to make sure she was unobserved and then hiked up her skirt and slid them back on. She fumbled with the buttons a bit but had them securely fastened by the time Phil had exited the car himself.

They walked past the guard, barely able to keep their hands to themselves. The man gave them a knowing, creepy look that Crawley ignored and Phil glared back at. Crawley’s steps were audible in her high heels, echoing off the masonry to their left as they walked down the sidewalk toward the Dew Drop. When they were about to enter the open door of the establishment, Crawley yanked him back off the low steps and fussed with his hair.

“What are you doing?” he said with a grin.

“You have FF hair.”

“Eff Eff?”

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, his cologne heavy in her nostrils.

“Freshly fucked.” Crawley gave his buttocks a playful slap.

The Dew Drop was packed with people, some swirling around the modest dance floor, some occupying seats at the bar, but most were sitting at a dozen or so tables and watching various sports on the big screen HDTVs that hung from the ceiling. There was little hope that anyone could actually hear anything emanating from the TVs, however, given the noise level generated by the overly exuberant patrons.

“Are we the first ones here?” Crawley said, leaning close to Phil so he could hear her over the throng.

“I guess so—wait!” His eyes lit up behind his spectacles. “I see Sven’s blond head over there.”

“Where?” Crawley strained her eyes in the dimly lit environs.

“There…under the monitor with…is that hockey?”

“I see them…and I think that’s curling, hon.”

They shuffled across the bar, taking some time to squeeze their way through the crowd. Phil took her hand in his, both to keep them from being separated and because of the many lingering looks that Crawley was getting from the male patrons. Eventually they stood next to the half circle booth that Rex and Sven had claimed earlier in the evening. Phil’s eyes widened in surprise when he spotted Steve and Autumn sitting next to Rex.

“You made it,” he said pleasantly, taking time to fist bump his old friend. Steve smiled, and was obviously having a good time, but the dark circles lurking beneath his eyes told of his emotional and physical weariness. The blue orbs themselves were a bit dull, lacking their usual verve.

Phil turned to Autumn and nodded at her. The quick-witted woman looked to be having a great time. He arched an eyebrow at the several empty margarita glasses sitting before her.

“You’re allowed to drink with one kidney?” Phil said.

“Gotta run to the little girl’s room more than I used to,” Autumn said with a shrug, “but yeah, I can drink.”

Her eyes were glassy, and her speech slightly slurred. Crawley noted that Steve had a half full bottle of beer in front of himself that he seemed to have forgotten about. Crawley gave Autumn a hug, as she had done often of late. She sat down in the booth next to Phil, her hand going on top of his knee.

“Autumn looks healthy,” Phil whispered into her ear. “Well, physically healthy anyway. She still scares the hell out of me.”

Crawley giggled, her face lighting up.

“Girls who dress like her are actually pretty boring in bed,” she whispered back. “It’s us good little Catholic girls you have to watch out for.”

“So,” Autumn said, drawing their attention, “I hear you guys are looking for a bassist.”

“Ja,” Sven said, his accented voice powerful enough to carry over the crowd and loud music. “I want to concentrate on singing.”

“We’re also thinking of adding original songs,” Rex said, motioning in vain for the barmaid.

“Really?” Steve said. “No more friendly neighborhood cover band?”

“Gotta evolve, my friend.”

“Where’s your wife?” Autumn asked Rex.

“At home. Her sister is in town, and I really needed a break from hearing them argue about which one of them their mother loved less.”

“That’s mean,” Crawley said as Rex and Steve laughed.

“That’s life,” Rex said, raising his glass to Crawley in mock toast.

“You don’t understand,” Phil said. “You’ve never met Rex’s sister-in-law. Everything is a competition to see who’s the most miserable, and she’s eminently more qualified.”

“Dammit,” Rex said as the barmaid again ignored his wave.

“Told you to tip more,” Steve said with a grin.

“I was gonna get some hot wings or something…”

“I’ll go to the bar and order some,” Crawley said, rising from her seat. Phil caught her hand and made her pause.

“Wait,” he said, digging in his wallet. He took out a twenty and handed it to her. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she said, letting her hand linger on his when she took the bill. Their prolonged smiles made their companions grin knowingly.

“No wonder you guys were late…” Steve said while Autumn catcalled.

“God,” Phil said, slapping a hand over his face. “It’s like being back in high school.”

“Nah,” Rex said, “Sven hasn’t given you a wedgie yet.”

“Sven,” Autumn said, narrowing her big brown eyes at the Swede, “were you a bully?”

“Yes,” said Steve and Rex at the same time Sven shook his head.

“I was just screwing around, ja?” Sven said.

“So how did you guys become friends?” Autumn said.

“Well,” Rex said, “Steve decides he’s going to beat up this big blond villain what’s been picking on his little buddy, and waits on the parking lot after class…”

“And proceeds to start laughing it up with him,” Autumn said. “I’ve heard this part of the story.”

“You ever just meet someone you hit it off with? It was pretty funny the first time Phil came to my house and Sven was there.”

“Didn’t you climb up a tree in the back yard?” Rex said, wrinkling his brow.

“Shut up, asshole.”

Crawley listened to their banter with half an ear, smiling prettily until she drew the bartender’s attention. As she waited by the bar for her order, she noticed someone standing beside her. She glanced up into the face of a towering man, his hair bleached blonde but with black roots beginning to show. A T-shirt about four sizes too small strained to contain his admittedly impressive pectoral muscles. The Dew Drop emblem was emblazoned on his sleeve, which probably meant he was a bouncer or bar back.

“Hi,” she said to be friendly, since the man seemed to be struggling for something to say. He was handsome enough, but Crawley had learned to be wary of men who took too much pride in their appearance. She preferred to be the one they doted over.

“Hey,” he said, offering his hand for a shake. She took it, her own hand disappearing within the meaty paw. “I’m John. You’re in that band that played here last month, right?”

“Yeah,” Crawley said, suddenly adopting a more professional demeanor, “Settle the Score. Were you interested in booking us?”

“Uh, actually, I heard from one of the waitresses that you guys were looking for a bassist. I play bass.”

“Really?” said Crawley, eyes widening. She ran her eyes up and down his impressive form, deciding that she would have to hear him play. He seemed too much of a prima donna type to be in a supporting role like bass player, but then how many women lead guitarists were there?

“You can talk to Rex if you want,” Crawley said, motioning for him to follow her. “He’s kind of in charge.”

She led him back to their table, accepting her basket of wings from the bartender first. As they approached the group, she noticed that Steve and Autumn seemed to be arguing. They stopped speaking as soon as she was in earshot, their angry gazes speaking volumes.

“Uh, guys,” Crawley said, wary of the tension. Conversation had stopped, and Autumn and Steve were studiously ignoring each other like angry cats that had just been in a hissing match.

“Uh,” Crawley said, licking her lips, “I have some hot wings…”

“Great,” said Rex, glad to have a change of subject. “Now it’s a party, right?”

He arched a brow at the bouncer standing behind her.

“Who’s this?”

“Oh,” Crawley said, blushing, “I’m so sorry, I forgot…Rex, this is John. He’s interested in trying out for the bassist position.”

“Oh yeah? Great to meet you, man.” Rex brightened up considerably. Crawley sighed in relief as Rex took over the negotiations. She still was feeling guilty about forcing her songs onto the boys in the band, and letting Rex assume his role as leader was soothing.

“You know this guy?” Phil poked her firmly in the arm. She turned, annoyed, to see the jealousy displayed on his face.

“Just met him, hon,” she said, putting a hand on Phil’s forearm. Leaning closer, she whispered in his ear. “What happened with Steve and Autumn?”

“He’s a sadistic asshole who won’t stop punishing me for leaving him,” Autumn said, who had apparently heard Crawley despite her attempts to be clandestine. “That’s what happened.”

“It was just an off-hand comment. You’re taking it too seriously,” Steve said.

“Fuck you I’m taking it too seriously! You’re saying shit like that all the time like I’m supposed to, what, drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness every time you bring it up?”

“You treat everything like it’s not a big deal. Even us.” Steve’s face was overwhelmed with a dark glower.

“Oh, shut up. I like to make fun of shit. You used to like that about me. You know what? You’re not borrowing my car while I’m at work anymore.”

“That’s fine. It’ll stop running since I’m the only one who puts gas and oil in it.”

“They put oil in it at the factory, don’t they?”

“You have to check it every three months! You don’t know how to take care of things!”

“Oh, that car won’t last forever! It had like a gazillion miles on it when my Dad bought it. You fuss over everything.”

“I fuss because I care! I can’t just blow things off like you do.”

“Since when have I ever—? You’re still punishing me for leaving.”

“I’m not punishing you.”

“Yes, you are!”

“Maybe I just want you to act like you give a shit.”

“Get out of my way.”

Autumn shoved Steve on the arm until he got up. She slid out of the booth and glared at him. Then she stared at everyone else at the table, smiling through her anger.

“Night all. Sorry you had to see that. I’m heading home.”

“Autumn,” Steve said, standing up. “Autumn, wait!”

Crawley winced as he charged off after her, the crowd dispersing before the burly man.

“The problem is you don’t trust me,” Autumn said as she walked a few feet ahead of Steve, digging in her leather purse for her keys.

“The problem is you don’t listen to me!” Steve strained to keep up with her angry pace. “I never said that I didn’t trust you.”

“You don’t have to say it. It’s all over your face. God, you’re so fucking intense about us, Steve!”

“That’s not a good thing?”

“Not if it makes us fight.” Her eyes shone in the half light with a softness that let him know he was already forgiven. “Can we drop this, please?”

“Fine. I’m just tired is all. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Autumn wrapped her arms around his waist. They stayed that way for a long moment, until Steve gently disengaged himself.

“We should get to the car before we get mugged.”

“Or get into a fight with a transvestite. Those don’t end well for you.”

“Those bitches are mean!” Both of them laughed, holding hands like school children as they traveled along the sidewalk. “I do trust you. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, well…I guess the money situation is getting to me more than I thought.”

They reached her vehicle, Steve looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Hey, you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“It’s been an hour and a half since my last drink.”

“Yeah, but you put away four margaritas.”

“I’m fine,” she said, attempting to jab her hand in his direction. When she did, the keys flew from her grasp to slide across the roof of the car.

“Yeah.” He took the keys in his own hand. “I think I better drive.”

“Maybe. You look tired, sugar. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I didn’t drink much. Didn’t want to spend much.”

“Yikes. And I went and ordered the most expensive drink on the menu.”

“Not hardly.” They circled around the car, switching places. “Did you see that Cosmopolitan that had the actual gemstones ground up in it? Was like fifty bucks! Anyway, don’t worry about it. Pop lent me some dough to get us through till the end of the month.”

Steve had to lean over and push the seat back before he could even get inside. Autumn watched, amused, as he then had to tilt the steering wheel up and adjust both mirrors.

“Giant,” she said with a giggle.

“Hobbit.”

“Hobbit, is it? See if I wear that skirt for you later.”

“We both know that you were full of shit anyway.”

“Was not! I really did find it the other day.”

She looked at him, an inscrutable expression on her face as they passed under the street lamps. While they waited at a red light, she took a deep breath and spoke.

“So, did your dad mention that idea of his again?” She was careful to keep her tone neutral, but her eagerness bled through at the edges.

“Yeah.” Steve rubbed his nose and let out a long sigh. “I don’t know, beautiful, it’s a hard business to break into, even if you know somebody. Not only that, it’s a hard life. Always on the road, never getting to see the people you love…”

He turned to her briefly, putting a hand on her stocking clad knee. She put her hand on top of his and squeezed it.

“I could come with you when you went on the road. Hell, I could be your manager or something…”

“No!” Steve winced at the volume of his voice. More softy, he continued. “No, Autumn, managers have to bump, and with your…condition…”

“Bump?” Autumn’s brows knit in query.

“When you take a hit, or get slammed, they call that ‘bumping.’ I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Does bumping hurt? I mean, I know it can’t feel good, but don’t you guys…don’t the wrestlers get training on how to fall?”

“Sure, and there’s a difference between something that hurts and something that injures you. I’d say that most of the time, wrestlers aren’t in any more or less pain than other professional athletes. The thing is, sometimes a move goes wrong, or somebody gets sweaty and loses their grip. That’s when you have problems.”

“It’s not like I want you to get hurt, either.” She stared out the window at buildings as they passed, the car’s blue profile reflected darkly back at them. “It’s just that…you deserve better than working minimum wage shit jobs.”

“On that subject…I was thinking of asking about being a manager at Greece Hut. I wouldn’t make as much as when I was teaching, but—”

“Absodamnlutely NOT.”

“What? What’s so objectionable about that?”

Autumn heaved a sigh and was silent for a time. When she spoke again, he could sense her struggling to keep her words soft.

“Steve, I love you, but you tend to, well…you look at shit with rose colored glasses. You always want people to be good, and give them the benefit of the doubt…at least as long as I didn’t used to date them.”

“Hey…”

“Sorry, cheap shot. What I mean is, those are great traits for a teacher, but for a fast food manager? You’d end up being walked all over, or you’d have to change.”

Autumn leaned across the divide and kissed him softly on the cheek.

“And I don’t want you to change,” she said.

Steve smiled at her, the darkness fleeing from his face for a moment.

“We’ll take it as it comes,” he said, patting her knee once more. He left his hand there and gently massaged her skin under the silky garment.

“What are you doing?” said Autumn with a giggle as he ran his hand further up her thigh.

“I don’t know, it has a mind of its own! It’s hungry, and it wants poon tang pie!”

“Stop it,” she said, slapping his hand when it disappeared under her leather skirt. “I bet you were the kind of kid who had to open his toys in the car, couldn’t wait to get home.”

“So does that mean I get to unwrap it when we get home?”

She teased his hair with her painted nails.

“Only if you spend all night playing with it.”