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He wanted to cater more toward the MC guys. I wanted to broaden our appeal and our clientele. Right now, the way I saw it a lot of people stayed away from Ace because they saw it as a biker bar. Any given night about half the patrons might be Skulls. That created an atmosphere, the kind of one where fights broke out.
The way Tommy saw it, we had built-in clientele. They had money, they stayed loyal, so why not play it up? He wanted to put up some chrome handlebars and headlights on the wall, get a few framed black and whites of vintage Harleys, maybe play with our logo to make it biker-friendly.
So far, we’d been managing to have a professional, if tense, back-and-forth over it. Sometimes he’d make a move, naming a new drink special the Ape Hanger (for the high handlebars on some custom bikes) or the Brain Bucket (a helmet). Then I’d target the local Cal State college crowd, doing a $1 drink happy hour during their basketball team’s big game and showing it on all our TVs.
“I don’t know man,” I concluded. “Sooner or later, something’s going to have to give.” I had a feeling that something would be me, and the giving would take the form of my leaving the partnership.
“You should move out here,” Liam suggested. “Open up a place on the island.”
I had to admit, it wasn’t a bad idea. We said our goodbyes and I sat down at the kitchen table, taking out a plate, a fork, and what had become my favorite food: one of Sky’s pies. This one was blueberry. What that woman did with crust, fruit and sugar was nothing short of magic.
I bet she’d taste even sweeter. I’d take my time, licking and sucking. She’d be slick like honey on my tongue. I’d feast on her all night.
Shoving the remaining pie back in the fridge, I pulled on my jacket and made myself head out to a party I’d been invited to. I needed to stay busy. It had been far too long since I’d been with a woman. I should distract myself, not get lost in fantasies. That only led to trouble.
§
A few weeks passed before I saw Sky again. I immersed myself in work, only visiting Ace on Monday afternoons. It wasn’t until mid-May that what I’d been thinking about but trying not to think about happened. I was sitting there with Ace, watching some show and shooting the shit, when Sky walked in.
Both Ace and I rose, welcoming her. She looked gorgeous, her chestnut hair down, thick and glossy, those plump lips curving into a smile as she greeted us. I’d never found scrubs sexy, but on her they tantalized, revealing little but promising so much.
She only stayed for a few minutes. She seemed flustered, looking everywhere but me. Ace scolded her for working too hard. He said she’d been taking other aide’s shifts.
“Only when they need me to,” she demurred. “Kaye’s daughter’s been sick. And Maria went on vacation.”
“I know, I just worry about you,” Ace insisted.
“That’s my job,” she teased. “I’m supposed to be worrying about you.”
She left, explaining she had a lot she had to attend to that afternoon. I left about a half hour later. On the way out, I passed by a supply room. The door ajar, I saw Sky inside folding sheets.
I paused, knowing I shouldn’t, but still wanting to anyway. Wanting won out. I rapped lightly on the door as I stood in the entrance. “How’s it going?”
She jumped, hand to her chest. “You startled me.”
“Sorry, wasn’t trying to. You need a hand?” I grabbed a sheet before she could say no. She had a pile in front of her.
“You don’t have to.” But that mountain in front of her was huge. “We send the linens out with a laundry service. But it’s only once a week and that’s not enough, so I do extra loads for residents. They need it, but it takes a lot of time.”
“That’s thoughtful of you.”
She shrugged, like she didn’t think it was anything special. I got the impression she thought that of herself as well. From where I stood, I saw a whole lot she could brag about if she wanted.
I helped her, taking sheet corners. We met in the middle, our hands brushing against each other as we exchanged sides, bringing the sheet together into increasingly smaller folds. It felt intimate, as if the sheets were ours, from the bed we shared night after night. I’d want Sky to sleep naked so I could reach for her at all hours, feel her soft curves against my skin.
Clearing my throat, I tried to steer my mind onto safer subjects. “So, what kind of pies are you baking this week?”
“Not sure yet.” She started rattling off options, clearly excited about the prospects. I could feel the light brush of her hair as she bent down to pick up another sheet. I could see the flush on her cheeks, sense the way her hands shook slightly as my fingers grazed along them. I shouldn’t be so aware. I shouldn’t even be in there with her. But there was should and there was reality.
“You going to get some ideas from YouTube?” I asked.
She smiled. “You remembered.”
Of course I remembered how she’d told me she learned to bake. I remembered everything about her. “I know you’re not going to call your mom for a recipe.”
That made her laugh. Without any bitterness, she agreed that her mother had never cooked or baked a day in her life. “She wasn’t so interested in the homemaker stuff. Cooking, cleaning, caretaking. Baking was my rebellion.”
“No smoking in the girls’ room?” I teased. “Just making apple pie?”
“I thought about a nose ring.”
“Did you?” I could not picture one on her.
“Not really,” she confessed. “I’ve never been that edgy.”
“That’s all right. I like you just the way you are.” We folded in silence. I wondered if I should have said that, but it was out there now. Besides, I meant it. “So, your mom, was she around much when you were growing up?” I didn’t get the sense of a close-knit family.
“Nope.”
“How about your dad?”
She gave me a smile, not seeming to mind but pointing out, “You’re giving me the third degree here.”
“Just trying to get to know you,” I answered honestly, brushing aside for the moment whether I should be doing that or not. I wanted to, end of story.
“My father stuck around when I was little, but he hasn’t been in the picture for a long time. He wasn’t so into the domestic life either, I guess. No idea where I got that gene from.” She blushed, then shook her head. “OK, now that I’ve shared all that personal stuff, it’s your turn.” Her eyes sparkled with enjoyment, clearly relishing turning the tables on me. “Tell me your darkest secret.”
She was teasing. She didn’t really mean for me to tell her my darkest secret. But there in the supply room, standing so close, I wanted to.
“I still feel guilty about my friend Ian. He got injured because of me. He’ll never walk again.”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She dropped the sheet and brought her hands to mine. I looked down at them, wanting to take them in my own. But she dropped hers, quick. “I mean…” She took a step back, clearing her throat. “What happened?”
Standing there, I told her all about it. “We were young and stupid, only 14. Four of us stole a boat. It never occurred to us that heading out a few hours before sunset on a boat we didn’t how to operate might not be such a smart idea.”
“Oh God.”
“Have you ever been out on the water in a sudden storm?
“No, never.”
“I never had been, either. I hope I never am again.” I shook my head remembering. It had been the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. “It was like a huge white wall of water hit us.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
