CHAPTER FOUR
-:- CORK -:-
I’ve been up since seven a.m. and before nine a.m. I had showered, eaten, cleaned through the apartment, done my laundry and I’m scratching my head for what to do next.
I grab another coffee, goodness knows how many that is today already.
I sit with my laptop at the table, searching for new ideas for wines to stock, styles of presentation to use, and anything else wine-related, which only kills another thirty minutes.
A call to Stitch does me no good whatsoever as he is adamant I rest. I don’t agree and I’ll work on him again in a couple of days. Walking into the wine shop, I find Ava deep in conversation with Grady and Penelope, two of the shop assistants.
“I hope this isn’t evidence of an upcoming mutiny, Executive Officer Ava?” They all jump and look as guilty as hell.
“Ah, Captain Cork.” Ava stands to attention and knuckles her forehead. “We were just discussing how we were going to manage without your skill and guidance.”
Now this humor is coming from Dallas popping in and out of the shop. They’ve all been throwing quips at each other, and I can’t help but roll my eyes as I’ve seen Star do at times.
Grady turns to Ava and scratches his head saying, “No we weren’t. You just asked for a plank to be brought on deck.”
We all laugh at his dry sense of humor. Grady and Penelope ask if I’m okay and if there’s anything I need to just ask.
“You do know it was just a concussion, right? I’m not dying or anything.” All this concern is very touching, but I’m not used to it and, if I’m honest, it’s getting on my nerves.
“Concussions can be nasty. There’s still a lot we don’t know about the brain.
I appreciate that you don’t have a lot to be affected, but you can never be too careful, eh?
” Penelope smiles at me as though she has just vocalized some pearl of wisdom, and I can’t decide if she’s serious or not, so I ignore it and continue with my wanderings.
Walking around the shop, I tidy up displays, reposition a couple of tables, and make a couple of suggestions to improve a new display that’s been put up.
A couple of customers come in and I try to help them, but one leaves without buying anything and the other one seems a little short-tempered and gives me some attitude, so I ask him to leave.
Ava asks if I’ll make her a cup of coffee, and we go to the apartment for a break.
We’re enjoying a discussion about sparkling wines when Wings walks inside unannounced.
He tells me to get into the SUV as I’m wanted at the clubhouse.
I’m wanted at last, I think to myself, and leave Ava to finish her coffee and lock up the apartment.
Driving to the clubhouse, I try to find out what it is I’m wanted for.
Wings is surprisingly tight-lipped, and after only a couple of minutes of prodding, I’m told to shut up and wait.
Arriving at the clubhouse, Wings tells me to stay in the common room and make myself useful.
Thinking this is a good time to launch another attack on Stitch, I head to his office. A calm knock has me receiving a quick ‘come in’ and I smile my biggest smile to cover the fact I’m here against his wishes. I can almost feel the temperature in the room drop when Stitch looks at me.
“The answer is no. It will be no tomorrow and remain no until a full seven days since the attack happened. You don’t even look well enough to be back at work, never mind pass a physical examination.
Now chill out in the common room and just enjoy some downtime while you have the opportunity.
Hell, we’d all give our right arm to be in your shoes, Cork.
Oh, and stay out of the shop, you’re driving customers away.
” Seeing Stitch flinch, I realize he just gave the game away.
Someone from the shop rang and asked for me to be brought here out of the way.
“It’s like that is it? I’ve given sweat, blood, and tears for that shop, and this is the thanks I get?” Turning to leave, Stitch grabs my arm.
“No, Cork, that’s not how it is. You are not ready to go back to work yet, and everyone wants to see you back to being one hundred percent before you do. We care about you, is that such a bad thing?”
Snatching my arm away, I storm out the door.
Getting a bottle of water from the bar, I manage to say thanks to ReUse and then throw myself into a corner of the room out of the way.
Sitting back with my eyes shut, I think back to the night of the break-in.
What could I have done differently? I rethink the timeline of the night, and my memory is good until I get hit.
Four to one odds in a confined space were just too much for me to overcome.
Some of the brothers would have coped with those odds, but I just don’t have the experience.
I guess that means more Sunday mornings, and maybe some one-on-one sessions with Target might be a good idea.
The quiet in the common room is shattered when Mia, Tilly, Jo, and the Three Stooges barge inside.
Seeing me sitting alone in a corner must ignite their maternal instincts as they make a beeline for my table.
Mia gives me a concerned look and then asks if I should be out of bed so soon.
Tilly and Jo squeeze up close and give me a kiss on the cheek.
The Three Stooges are all discussing the healing powers of a good serving of soup.
Beef broth being their recommendation for my condition, apparently.
It doesn’t take long, thankfully, and my condition takes second place to the Sunday training session.
They are all gushing over Dallas and Raven, not only almost finishing in front of a couple of brothers, but it was a last-minute dash by Winter and Kya, to keep their record of coming in before all the other women.
It doesn’t sound like gossip, more like pride in their fellow females.
I have to say it is refreshing to hear a lot of positive talk.
When they get to the hand-to-hand combat, my ears really prick up.
Dallas pitched against Cora? That was a harsh pairing, I have to say.
Unless Dallas had some special kind of cowboy training, they hung her out to dry, putting her against Cora.
Cora is lovely and I don’t think for one minute she would go out of her way to hurt or humiliate Dallas.
On the other hand, she takes her training seriously and wouldn’t mess around in the arena.
If there were a way to end a bout quickly, Cora would take it.
I listen to them describe how Cora put Dallas on her back twice in quick succession, and then helped her get back on her feet.
I wouldn’t take that lying down if I were in her shoes.
Apparently, neither did Dallas. I have to ask Jo to explain that again.
A lasso? Good for her. That’s thinking outside the box and using a talent you have from a different perspective. Go Dallas!
Seeing ReUse restocking the bar, I excuse myself and go over to offer my help.
He has me help fill the shelves and fridges while he fetches the boxes from the stockroom.
As I keep catching up with him I decide to do a couple of trips myself, which gives me plenty of things to keep me busy.
Carrying three cases of water back to the bar, I fall flat on my back as the lights go out.
Opening my eyes, I’m surprised to find myself on a bed in the medical room.
Stitch has his back to me working at a counter, so I think I’ll slip out and be away before I have to hear his lecture and a dozen told-you-so’s.
Rolling slowly to my right side I slip my legs out of bed and get ready to run.
Opening my eyes, I’m surprised to find myself on a bed in the medical room. This time, however, Stitch is glaring down at me and when I try to move, my hands and feet are secured to the damn bed.
”Why is it so difficult for you to do as you’re fuckin’ told?
Ava is dropping a bag of your stuff off when she finishes.
You are confined to the clubhouse until further notice.
Is that clear?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Stitch so angry.
I mean, I don’t spend a lot of time at the clubhouse since the Wine Shop opened, and I moved into the apartment, but even so!
Stitch steps outside, and Mia is revealed leaning with her back on the counter.
I look at her and ask. “What the hell got him so hot under the collar?”
“Oh, Cork, you are so lovely…but you can be dimmer than a busted taillight at times, you honestly can. I know Stitch will never admit to having a soft spot for any of the brothers, as he cares for them all equally.” Mia steps over to me, unfastens my wrist and holds my hand, rubbing it with her thumb.
“You are different. He hadn’t been with us that long when you came to us, and I don’t think you realize how bad you were when you arrived here. ”
“Yeah, I know I had pneumonia.”
“You were on death's door, Cork. We didn’t think you’d pull through when you arrived, and Stitch worked so hard to make sure you made it.
He refused to give in, and he told everyone that you’d make it, but I’m not sure even he believed it at the time.
You should do anything and everything that man tells you, when he tells you.
” Mia stops rubbing my hand and squeezes it instead.
“I don’t think you realize how much he cares. ”
Turning, she walks out and leaves me stunned.