‘Fine. This place is a dump, anyway.’ Eric yanked the cue out of Stephen’s grasp and threw it downwards and toward us. Stephen put out his foot to arrest its flight and trapped it against the floor with a clatter before it could hit our shins.
The rest of the group followed their leader, shuffling out, kicking chairs and trying to look big.
‘Stay and have another drink. They might be waiting for you outside. It’s on the house,’ the bartender said.
Stephen thanked the gang of bikers who’d come to our rescue and looked down at me. ‘Are you OK?’
I nodded, despite the shakiness coming over me.
‘Good.’ His arm began to slide away from my waist but when I inadvertently tightened the fingers I hadn’t even realised I had been grasping the sides of his shirt with, he paused. His other arm came up around my back instead, surrounding me with his strength and warmth in a gentle hug. I took a couple of deep breaths and eased back when I realised my jitters were becoming less to do with what had just happened and more to do with his proximity.
We stayed for two more drinks in the end. The bikers hadn’t been counting teeth, they’d been playing scrabble and we joined them. I helped Leon, the one with the scar that cut right across the left side of his face, win when we made ‘try’ into ‘quixotry’.
Stephen kept close to me as we walked out of the neighbourhood in the dark, only releasing my arm when we reached my apartment block, and frankly, I’d appreciated it.
‘Life’s certainly an adventure when I’m around you, Noelle,’ he commented. ‘Guess you were wrong about those bikers being the ones to worry about.’
The sodium light from the restaurant sign lit up a circle we were standing just outside the circumference of. I considered his shadowy figure and sighed. ‘Is this really the time for an I-told-you-so?’
‘No. It isn’t. I’m sorry.’ He shook his head and put his hands on his hips to breathe for a minute, like he hadn’t relaxed until this moment when we were at my doorstep. After the abuse it took in the bar, the jacket he was holding now resembled more of a used muslin cloth, than a designer garment. ‘We’re only going to give the posters one more week and we’re not going to risk meeting anyone else. Either they give us the information over the phone or not. Agreed?’
‘Fine.’ I didn’t suppose I was in a position to argue with him. It wasn’t like I was naive. My dad had told us enough stories and was always in vigilance mode, wherever we were. That kind of thing rubbed off on you, but I hadn’t considered anything further than the idea of the poster. Sometimes schemes that worked in books and stories didn’t turn out quite that way in real life.
But now Stephen was going to doubt my ability to help him. I wasn’t going to let him walk away from me thinking I was an idiot and this had all been a waste of his precious time.
Even if it took me all night, I was going to come up with a list of Italian restaurants to visit tomorrow and we were going to get another lead.
Chapter Twenty-One
Stephen
When Nick sent me a stream of photographs from his hotel room in Melbourne on Saturday morning, and asked how things were going in NYC, I was tempted to reply that his girlfriend’s buddy was likely to get me killed. But the truth was I didn’t blame Elle for the unpleasantness yesterday. I was just relieved we’d both got out in one piece.
Thinking about how those arse-wipes had tried to touch her had my adrenalin racing again, so I went straight out for an early-morning run to burn it off. I’d nearly lost my cool and done something stupid. You didn’t go around threatening women. Obviously decent human beings didn’t threaten to hurtanyonefor money but the thought of them putting their hands on her… I could still feel her body tucked under my arm, trembling, like it was imprinted to my ribs…
I pounded the streets at a ridiculous speed for the heat, pushing myself too quickly and nearly pulling a muscle for my idiocy. By the time I’d walked back to my apartment, Elle was calling me. She had a list of five restaurants she wanted us to visit. I’d have been grateful for a day off the search after the fiasco in the bar but she wasn’t available on Sunday and the fact she was voluntarily out of bed before 9am had not escaped my notice. Her firm but noticeably less confrontational tone also registered. Perhaps she felt guilty about it going so wrong yesterday.
That dead end had only seemed to make her more stubborn though and I couldn’t help feeling that I’d started something with her that I didn’t have complete control over anymore. Like I’d programmed a diminutive red-headed terminator and couldn’t cancel the action now.
So, I found myself back in Little Italy, at a restaurant called Bennito’s. It was double-fronted, painted rusty red around its large windows and we had a table under the dark green canopy out the front. The smells from inside the restaurant reminded my stomach that all I’d done was shower before heading over to Elle’s apartment to pick her up.
When the waitress came over to take our drinks orders and I just asked for water, Elle kicked me under the table. Possibly she didn’t feel as bad about yesterday as I’d thought. It was surprising how much a sandal could hurt. ‘What?’
‘Are you sure you don’t want something more…y’know? Exciting?’ She lifted one pale freckled shoulder; the thin strap of her top sliding closer to her neck from the movement. ‘How about a glass of wine?’
I blinked. ‘It’s a little early.’ Barely 11am.
‘But it’s excellent forlubrication.’ She raised her eyebrows at me, and it clicked. She wanted me to spend a decent amount so that the staff felt more happily disposed towards us. I wish she’d told me before that was her tactic. It made sense – it was similar to what we did with clients. And it would have saved me the bruise on my shin.
We both ordered a glass of the most expensive wine on the menu and the waitress left us.
‘First it’s coffees, then fruit – now I’m wining and dining you. I’m beginning to think it would be cheaper to hire a private detective. I could go relax while they were doing their work.’
‘You bring up an interesting point there. Whydoyou want to do this yourself? Law firms can usually handle tracking down people who have inherited money.’
I squinted out at the street where people were bustling by. ‘It’s expensive.’
‘You can afford it.’
