Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
TO THIS DAY, I have no idea how I got through that morning. Not only was I knackered, I had to deal with Jimmy and Jackie’s incessant questioning about the mess I was in as well as most of the regulars offering to go around and beat up whoever had caused it.
At twelve, Jimmy planted himself in front of me. “Go to bed, Amanda. I’m sick of you stumbling around reception like a zombie.”
“I’m fine, honestly. I just didn’t sleep so well last night.”
“That’s hardly surprising. If you tell me who did it, I’ll sort it out.”
“I’m grateful for the offer, but it’s dealt with, Jimmy. This won’t be happening again.”
“It had better not. If it does, I’ll hold you upside down myself and shake the truth loose. Now, get lost.”
I half crawled, half stumbled back to my room, and despite the stiffness and aches plaguing me, I nodded off quickly. I wasn’t quite dead, but I sure slept like it.
When six o’clock rolled around, I didn’t notice because I was still fast asleep with the pillow over my head. I only woke up when the shouting started. Was that Jimmy yelling? He never yelled. He didn’t need to—one sharp word from him and people generally cowered. I dragged myself out of bed and flattened my hair down with my fingers, grabbed a piece of chewing gum to cover up my disgusting breath, then walked out into the gym to see what all the fuss was about.
I found Black standing next to the boxing ring, facing off with a dozen scary-looking dudes led by my self-appointed guardian. Black’s nose was swollen, and his face looked even worse than it did when he brought me back in the early hours.
Jimmy had his fists up as he raised his voice again. “You want to try fighting a man instead of my little girl?”
“I don’t want to fight anyone.” Black looked remarkably unruffled considering his opposition included a current heavyweight boxing champion and a dude who’d just been released from prison for grievous bodily harm.
“Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night, did you, you monster? It was you, wasn’t it? Have you seen the state you left her in?”
Oh, heck. I didn’t want to be responsible for the inevitable beating that was going to happen if I didn’t intervene. With little other choice, I rushed over and planted myself in front of Black.
“Jimmy, guys, back down. Please. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, because I really do, but you’ve got the wrong man.”
“Amanda, why are you defending him?”
“He didn’t do this. It was some other guy. He jumped me, and I didn’t see his face. Black pulled him off; that’s how he got hurt.” I pointed at his cheek, which glowed a tasteful shade of purplish-blue under the strip lights.
Okay, so that was a bit of a lie, but what was I supposed to do? Tell the truth?
Like an outgoing tide, the tension ebbed from the room. Jimmy took a step back and stuck out his hand for Black to shake. “Why didn’t you say so, son? Thanks for looking after her. Want a beer?”
The other guys clapped him on the back and wandered off to the weight pile.
Black reached out for his hand. “I’ll pass, thanks. I’m just here to take Amanda out for dinner.” He looked at me pointedly when he stressed my name.
Jimmy narrowed his eyes at him. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
So my guess of mid-twenties had been bang on.
“You’re too old for her. She’s only eighteen,” Jimmy informed him, turning to me. “He’s too old for you,” he repeated.
“It’s not like that,” Black said to Jimmy. “I only want to make sure she’s all right after what happened last night. My conscience wouldn’t let me drop her off and then wash my hands of her.”
“Oh. In that case, Amanda, you’d better go and get ready. Sure you don’t want that beer?”
Thanks, Jimmy. He may have looked like the Hulk, but he was a pushover.
Gah! I rolled my eyes, but it looked as if I was stuck going for dinner with Black, because I couldn’t back out without Jimmy asking more questions. And I’ll admit, I was a teensy bit curious over why Black wanted to talk to me.
I left him sitting on the sofa in reception and prayed Jimmy wouldn’t blab too much about me to a man I barely knew. That thought made me hurry in the shower, and my jeans stuck to my still-damp skin as I pulled on the cleanest pair.
I didn’t own much in the way of smart, and the closest I’d come to dinner with a man before was sharing the 2-for-1 deal at Chicken Cottage. But it wasn’t like this was a date, so I figured the jeans and a plain black T-shirt would be fine with my dark purple jumper over the top. I didn’t own a blow dryer and all my make-up was at Silk, so my face stayed bare and the soggy ends of my blonde hair brushed my shoulders.
Fifteen minutes later, I was back out the front with Jimmy and Black, who’d been joined by Jackie. The three of them were chatting away like long-lost friends. When Black saw me coming, he stood up and held out a hand to me.
Still playing the part for Jimmy, I linked my arm through Black’s and smiled.
“The car awaits, my lady,” Black said, charm personified.
Jackie grinned like she’d just won the lottery. “Oh, Amanda, he’s such a gentleman. And don’t you worry about working tomorrow morning, honey. I’ll do your shift.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Nonsense, you need to enjoy yourself sometimes.” And that was her final word on it.
Black escorted me out of the door, and the second it closed behind us, I shoved his arm back at him. “I think we’ve safely established I’m not a lady, and I’m certainly not your lady, so you might as well cut the crapola.”
Irritatingly, he just turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “Amanda?”
“Look, have you ever had a name you really hated? I’m not going to use it if I don’t have to.”
“Sure I do. It’s Charles. Why do you think my friends call me Black?”
“I’m not exactly a friend, am I?”
“Well, I’m working on that, okay? Good save in there, by the way. I especially liked the part where I beat up the mystery third assailant. That was a nice touch.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I just didn’t want Nigel to get arrested again when the mob tried to kill you. He only got out of prison last week, and he’d be violating his parole.”
“Oh. Well, thanks anyway.” He stopped at a low-slung black sports car and opened the door for me to get in.
“No driver tonight?”
“It’s his day off. Where do you want to eat?”
“How should I know? Do I look like the type of girl who dines in fancy restaurants? For me, eating out is a choice between McDonald’s or Burger King, and you don’t come across as a person who frequents either of those.”
“I’m not, but if you want to go there….”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. If you insist we have to go out for dinner, just pick somewhere, will you?”
Black started the engine and put the car in gear then peeled out of the parking lot. He wasn’t hanging around, and with a bit of speeding and some dubious calls at traffic lights, we soon pulled up outside a small Italian restaurant.
Once he’d abandoned the car at the kerb, he turned and raised one of his dark eyebrows again. “I’m surprised. Most women would have told me to slow down at least half a dozen times during that trip.”
“If you want to lose your licence, it’s up to you. But it’s nice that you’re aware you drive like an idiot.”
“I don’t, normally. I was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”
“Well, you’ll be trying for a long time. I’ve been in cars with people who drive far worse than that.”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
“Well, that suits me because I have no intention of telling you.”
Some people who nicked cars drove them like idiots, not caring if they wrecked someone else’s pride and joy. I hated being a passenger on those trips. When I stole a vehicle, it was either for the technical challenge or simply because I needed to get from A to B, and I drove mighty carefully. I didn’t fancy explaining to the police why I was driving a borrowed car with no licence and no insurance, and I always left the car neatly parked once I’d finished with it.
Ever the considerate one, that was me.
Black walked around the car and swung my door wide open. I ignored his outstretched hand and levered myself out of the seat. He shrugged, a tiny movement, then guided me into the restaurant with a hand on the small of my back.
“I’m not going to get lost, you know. We’re only twenty yards from the door.”
He smiled faintly. “Politeness is wasted on you.”
Well, I didn’t want to be here, did I?
Inside, a tiny Italian man who introduced himself as Giovanni greeted Black warmly and showed us to what he professed to be the best table in the house, hidden in a quiet corner and softly lit by candles.
“You’ve got the wrong idea about this,” I told the guy.
He ignored me and pulled a chair out.
“Sit,” Black said.
“I’m not a freaking dog.”
He sighed. “Sit, please.”
I huffed and gave in. The sooner I sat, the sooner I could eat. And the sooner I ate, the sooner I could go home.
Black took over and ordered for both of us, asking for water and a decent bottle of wine, plus a plate of antipasti to start and a variety of pizza and pasta dishes to follow.
“I thought I’d order what I know is good, seeing as you apparently don’t have a clue about restaurants, and the menu’s in Italian,” he said.
“Yeah, thanks. I’m sure someone as loaded as you seem to be wouldn’t come somewhere the food’s rubbish, though, so I don’t suppose it would have mattered what I’d asked for.”
“Are you going to be deliberately antagonistic all evening?”
“Probably. It’s not like I asked to come, is it?”
Black inhaled deeply, the sign of someone hanging onto control by his fingertips. “I’m not accustomed to going out to dinner with a female who’s so clearly unwilling to be here, so do you think you could try to be a tiny bit accommodating? To make the evening more pleasant for both of us?”
“Maybe. It would be even more pleasant if you’d take me home and pick up one of your oh-so-willing lady friends. Then I could go back to sleep.”
I had another five o’clock start tomorrow, and I was still behind on shut-eye. Jackie might have offered to do my shift, but I had no intention of taking her up on it.
“That’s not why I’m here tonight.”
“Ah yes, your mysterious proposition. Well, what is it then? Spit it out.”
“All in good time. We’ll eat first.”
How could he be so infuriatingly patient about the whole thing?
Giovanni brought the food, and it seemed as though Black had ordered the entire menu. Probably he did. I started eating, piling my plate high, and every dish tasted really, really good. So good, in fact, that I forgot to act annoyed and just savoured each delicious morsel. The wine slid down nicely, too, and I drank several glasses. Probably I should have mentioned that I was underage, but I didn’t want to risk that little snippet of information getting back to Jimmy.
Besides, I’d been drinking since the age of twelve, albeit mostly beer and cheap cider rather than undoubtedly expensive grape products. This made a nice change.
The waistband of my trousers dug into my stomach as Giovanni returned to clear away the plates. Stuffed, I leaned back in my chair and tried to burp discreetly.
“Are you ready for dessert, or do you want to wait a few minutes?”
Dessert? There was more? If it was as good as the rest of the food then I wanted it, even if it meant staying in Black’s company for a bit longer so I had enough room to eat it. In truth, he wasn’t a bad dinner companion.
Conversation so far had stayed on safe topics—sports, London, Virginia where he was from, the weather, things like that. He seemed to know a lot about everything and conversing with him sure beat the monosyllabic grunts of half the guys I hung out with. It was a shock to realise I was enjoying dinner, despite my best efforts to the contrary.
Dessert arrived, or should I say desserts. Giovanni served up eight different ones, and Black and I both tried all of them, except I snarfed down four times more than he did.
Hey, I figured it might be years before I got food that posh again, so I wanted to make the most of it.
Black ordered another bottle of wine and poured me a glass. Then he topped up his own water. He was driving, so he’d only drunk one glass of red before he switched.
His face grew serious. This must be the important bit, I thought somewhat groggily, and through my alcohol-induced fuzz, I realised I had an issue.
Because although I didn’t know what he was planning to ask me, I felt remarkably mellow. Far from my usual “uptight with a hint of crazy,” probably due to all the wine combined with a total carb overload. At that moment in time, slumped back in my seat, watching his full pink lips move, I’d have agreed to anything.
Which presented me with a bit of a problem when I heard what he had to say.