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Six of Hearts

Page 11

   


He folds his arms casually. I have to admit, I wasn’t ready for that onslaught. I don’t think Charlene was, either. In fact, she looks kind of embarrassed at him picking apart her appearance like that. It’s one thing for him to tell her random facts no stranger could possibly know. That’s the exciting bit. But it’s another for him to explain how he knows them.
After a few seconds she laughs it off, though. “Oh, my God, I never knew people could tell these things about me. It’s kind of freaking me out, but it’s so much fun! Okay, now do her,” she says, pointing to me.
Jays turns his head, a wicked tilt to his lips. “I’d be happy to.”
I can’t tell whether or not he meant that as an innuendo. I raise my hands in the air. “Please don’t. I don’t want to know.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be a spoilsport,” Charlene chides. I cut her an annoyed look.
Jay leans forward and takes one of my hands in both of his. The touch surprises me, scattering goose pimples across my skin. He rubs his thumb over the top of my index finger, and I suppress a shiver. “You see these little scratches? They show you do some kind of work with your hands. The dressmaking, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, but you already knew that.”
His lips twitch. “Okay. You’re a deep sleeper. You enjoy healthy comfort foods. You do some form of exercise. My bet would be cycling. When it’s warm out, you like to sit in the sun. You don’t dye your hair. When men touch you, it makes you nervous. Your favourite style era is the fifties…and you wish I’d shut the f**k up right now.” He stops and sits back in his seat with a smile. “Well, how did I do?”
I narrow my eyes. “Too well.”
“You want me to explain how I know?”
“Not particularly.”
Charlene rolls her eyes and puts her hand on Jay’s shoulder, leaning close to him. “I want to know. Tell us.”
Jay angles his body away from her ever so slightly, then starts to speak. “I can tell you sleep deeply because the whites of your eyes are clear. People who sleep bad get redness, or their eyes can be bloodshot. I’m a prime example of that.” He points to himself, and it makes me wonder why he doesn’t sleep well. “I know you like healthy comfort foods because you’re not fat, but you’ve got curves. You’ve got muscles in your thighs and calves, but not in your arms, which shows you exercise mainly with your legs, hence the cycling. You’ve got a small scattering of freckles across your nose from sitting in the sun. Your hair is an exact match for your eyebrows, so it’s most likely not dyed. Plus, your dad showed me some of your kiddie pictures the other day,” he admits.
Oh, I’m so having words with Dad about that.
“You flinched very slightly when I touched your hand, which means you either don’t like me or men don’t touch you very often, which is why it makes you nervous. I can tell you like the fifties because most of the dresses you make have details that are reminiscent of that era. And your eyes did a pretty good job of telling me you wished I’d shut the f**k up.” He chuckles.
“Well,” I say, letting out a long breath, “that was spot on. Disturbingly so,” I grumble.
“I’ve been paying close attention, Watson,” he says, and I suppress a tremor.
“Seriously, that was so good,” Charlene exclaims. “You should, like, have your own TV show or something.”
Jay gives her a sardonic look. “Yeah, I should, shouldn’t I?”
An Abba song comes on, and I hear Michelle calling me to join her and Mr Fox. Both are currently shaking it over on the dance floor.
“Matilda! It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ — get over here now!” she drunkenly shouts. When we were younger we discovered Muriel’s Wedding, and Abba has been our guilty pleasure ever since.
I turn back to Jay and Charlene. “It looks like I’m wanted.” Then I stand up and go to Michelle. She grabs both of my hands when I reach her and starts swaying me from side to side. “I love this song,” she yells over the music while Mr Fox hovers close behind her. It seems like I’m destined to be the third wheel in some form or another tonight.
“Who’s the ginger bitch?” she asks, nodding toward the table.
“Some air hostess.”
“Huh. Oh, don’t look now, but Jay’s coming over. Ginger bitch doesn’t look too happy.”
“Really? He’s coming over?”
“Oh, no wait. He made a beeline for the bar.”
I exhale in relief. I like dancing, but dancing with Jay is not an experience I think I can handle. The song ends and changes to a slow number, so I leave Michelle alone to slow dance with her latest acquisition. Joining Jay, I ask the bartender for another wine.
“Aren’t you going back to Charlene?” I ask. “She’s still over there waiting.”
Jay turns to face me while I continue looking directly ahead. I’m not sure why, but I can’t seem to make eye contact. I see him frowning at me out of the corner of my eye, his brows all drawn together. “Do you want me to go back to her?”
I shrug and glance at him, then gulp down more wine.
“You should take it easy. It’s only ten o’clock.”
“It’s fine. I’ll probably head home soon, anyway. Michelle’s not going to be much company for the rest of the night.”
“Does she usually leave you alone like this?” Jay asks, moving his body slightly closer.
“Nah, I normally get to talk with the friend of whoever she’s flirting with. Fun, yeah?”
Jay doesn’t reply, but his jaw moves in a weird way. He keeps on staring at me until Charlene takes it upon herself to come to him.
“Hey, I thought I’d save you the trip,” she says in a sweet voice, sliding onto the stool beside him. I turn away and let my gaze drift over the crowds on the dance floor. A man wearing a blue shirt leers at me, so I make sure not to have any more eye contact with him. Jay nudges me, holding up his phone.
“I just got a text from Jessie. Apparently, the cougar turned out to have a husband who wanted a ménage a trois, and she needs rescuing. You want to come with me?”
“Uh, sure. I’ll just send Michelle a quick message to let her know we’re leaving.”
And, just like that, we’re out of there and on our way to get Jay’s car to pick up Jessie.
From the daggers she gives me, I get the feeling Charlene is none too pleased about it.
Eight
When we stop off at the house, I make a quick change into some jeans, a T-shirt, and plimsolls. Overall, the night was a bit of a bust, so there’s no point in holding onto the glamour. Jay honks his horn, and I hurry downstairs and out the door.
I sit in the passenger seat, and Jay manages to speed while keeping just below the actual speeding limit. We head out toward a quiet suburb, with Jay’s GPS giving us directions as we go. In the end we drive down a dark country lane toward a large grey house. It all seems quiet, with Jessie nowhere to be seen. However, the second we stop at the end of the stony driveway, the front door flies open and Jessie emerges, her tall form running toward us like a bat out of hell.
The cougar and a middle-aged man come after her, matching black silk robes on, shouting and waving their fists. If their anger didn’t have me so on edge, I’d probably laugh at what they’re wearing. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but when Jay rolls down his window, I catch the tail end of a tirade that ends with, “Little bitch!”
Jessie hops straight into the back seat, yelling, “Put your foot on it, Jay — we need to get the f**k out of Dodge.”
The couple are in front of Jay’s car now, and there isn’t enough space for him to get around them.
“What did you do, steal their wallets or something?” Jay asks, chuckling and reversing, trying to figure out a way past the fuming husband and wife.
“You were taking too long, and they kept trying to convince me to take part in a threesome. I let my temper get the better of me and smashed a tray of crystal glasses. Now they want me to pay for the damage. Pair of f**king nutjobs.”
“I hate to break it to you, but it sounds like you were the nut in this situation, Jess.”
“Hey, I’m allowed to be angry. It’s not my fault I’m offended by the idea of sucking a cock,” she jokes.
Sticking his head out the window, Jay calls to the couple, “Listen, you’re going to want to move out of the way before I run you both the f**k over.”
“That crystal was an anniversary gift!” the man shouts. “She owes us six hundred euros.”
“For a couple of glasses?” Jay asks. “Are you high?”
“They were Waterford crystal!” the wife wails.
“Well, since they were a gift, you haven’t really lost any money, now, have you?”
“They had sentimental value!”
“Call it payback for sexual harassment!” Jessie shouts from the back seat.
The wife marches toward the car now, and Jay reverses further. “You knew exactly what this was about, Jessie,” she says, gesticulating wildly. “So don’t go acting all innocent.”
“I didn’t know you had a f**king husband. No, you decided to spring that on me once you’d lured me into your lair.”
“You should be flattered that we invited you into our home, you little tramp.”
“I’d rather be a tramp than a dried-up old hag!”
At this the woman dives for the car, but Jay reverses just enough so she doesn’t collide with his bumper. He ends up on the lawn, and manages to swing around and head straight for the exit, leaving tire marks all through their flower beds. I turn in my seat to see the two chasing after the car. I hope they didn’t get the chance to memorise his licence plate.
Soon we’re well clear of the house and back on the road. I let out a long sigh and turn to Jessie, asking with concern, “Are you okay?”
“Oh, no way, Matilda,” says Jay, putting his hand on my thigh. “Don’t go giving her any sympathy. She got herself into this situation, so she only has herself to blame.”
“She didn’t know the woman had a husband,” I say, my voice quiet.
“Yeah, I didn’t know,” says Jessie pointedly. “And thank you for your concern, honey, but I’m fine.”
“You shouldn’t have caused a scene,” Jay mutters, eyeing Jessie sharply through his overhead mirror.
“But it’s what I do best,” Jessie replies, and sticks out her tongue.
I turn to look out the window, but Jay doesn’t move his hand from my thigh. His fingers are pretty close to a certain place, and I have a hard time breathing for a second. He gives a little squeeze, and God, it makes me want things I don’t want to want.
There’s a couple minutes of silence. Jay breaks it when he starts to mimic Jessie. “‘It’s not my fault I’m offended by the idea of sucking a cock.’”
Jessie snickers. “Shut up.”
Jay sighs. “We both knew that one was going to be trouble.”
“Trouble is fun, so long as there’s no husband involved.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve got to stop letting your temper get the better of you. One of these days it’ll get you into the wrong kind of trouble, Jess, the un-fun kind.”
“Okay, Dad. I won’t point out that you’re hardly a poster boy for self-control.”
“Yeah, you won’t, but you just did. Anyway, I’m not your dad, and thank f**k for that. You were a little hell-raiser.”
Jessie laughs and slumps back in her seat, folding her arms. “So, how did your night go?”
“It was going great until we had to leave to come rescue your ass.”
“Yes,” I put in, turning to wink at Jessie, “there was a very attractive redhead coming onto Jay. You totally cockblocked him.”
He squeezes my thigh again, his voice low when he says, “She didn’t cockblock anyone. I never planned on going there.”
I don’t know what to say now, so I say nothing. Jessie’s soft chuckling drifts from the back. A couple of minutes later, we arrive at her apartment and she hops out, tipping her imaginary hat to us.
“Thanks for the ride, you two,” she says, and then skips her way to the entrance.
“How do you know Jessie?” I ask as Jay pulls away from the curb.
“Known her since I was a kid. Before my parents died and I went to America to live with my uncle, we were best buds at school. When I moved back here, I looked her up. Turned out she was doing pretty badly. Her entire family had disowned her when they found out she was gay, so she turned to drugs. I got her into a clinic, helped her find a job. The rest, I guess, is history.”
“Wow. That was really nice of you.”
Jay shrugs. “It is what it is.”
The remainder of the drive home is quiet. In the house, Jay follows me upstairs. When I get to my bedroom door, I turn back to say good night, only to find he’s standing right behind me, a look in his eyes that makes me feel hot all over. There’s something dark in his gaze that I can’t translate. The air between us is thick, and as the seconds tick by, I grow nervous. I need to get away and I’m not even sure why, so when I find my voice to speak, I tell him good night before quickly hurrying inside my room.
And when I lay my head on my pillow, I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t broken the moment.
***
Saturday passes in a lazy fashion. I spend most of my time reading my Kindle out in the garden. We’re going through a sunny-weather patch. My book choice on this occasion veers toward the emotionally intense romantic kind, but I’m not going to analyse why that is. I suppose the way Jay was looking at me last night has me in need of a bit of lady porn.