13. Chapter 13 #3
I turned around to see Dax’s tall, broad frame standing behind me. His dark hair dipped down near the arch of his eyebrow. His frosty blue eyes met mine with unmatchable intensity.
“I just wanted to check in.” His voice was low and deep, and I noticed Ricky try to lean forward to listen out of the corner of my eye. “How’s it going tonight?” That was a loaded fucking question.
“Great, thanks.” I kept my answer short and polished. That was all I needed to be toward him. Polite. Professional. Just like he wanted.
“Okay, well if you need anything, I’ll be in my office. I’m finishing up my orders and working on payroll but come find me when your shift is done so I can give you a ride home.” His jaw was set straight.
“That won’t be necessary,” I told him cheerfully.
“Lucy—”
“No,” I cut him off. “I will take the bus, just like I always have. I will be perfectly safe. Besides, driving me home seems like it might be a little outside of the employer-employee relationship we have. You want to keep things professional and appropriate, right?” My sickly-sweet tone couldn’t mask the edge in my voice.
He scowled. “It’s unsafe at night,” he hissed, garnering further attention from Ricky and his bar patrons.
“You don’t get to be the one to decide how I get home. You’re my boss, I’m your employee, remember? All that matters is that I show up on time and leave when I’m finished with my job.” I tried keeping my voice hushed, but we already had the attention of the nearby eavesdroppers.
“I’m doing everything I can to help you, Lucy. I can’t do any of that unless I know you’re safe. For the love of god, can’t you let me have a little peace of mind?” he snarled back.
Ricky cleared his throat loudly enough Dax and I—and the group of onlookers—turned our heads in his direction. “Sweet Lucy”—he stirred an Old Fashioned with a long bronze cocktail spoon—“I overheard that you need someone to drive you home tonight.”
“I do not need someone to drive me home. I am perfectly fine with taking the Muni,” I tell him right at the exact time as Dax.
“Yes, and she’s being too stubborn to take the offer.”
“It feels like more of a demand than an offer,” I spat in response.
“I’m going to need you two to take this lovers’ quarrel away from our paying customers,” Ricky hissed, then gave an apologetic smile in their direction before swerving his head back to me and Dax. “How about I drive you home tonight, Lucy?”
Dax’s mouth pressed shut. I watched his chest rise and fall, frustration rolling off him.
“I wouldn’t want to impose on your night, thank you for the offer though.” My voice stayed steady despite the trembling I felt inside.
“Nonsense! I’m headed toward the Haight tonight for a party anyway. It’s no imposition.” Ricky garnished the Old Fashioned with a cherry and slid it down the bar to one of the waiting guests. “Now off with you both, some of us are trying to work here.”
I shut my mouth, not wanting to cause any more of a scene than I already had. Dax spun around and stormed back to his office, and I made my way back to the dish-pit to finish my shift.
I felt bad that Ricky was now involved with the chaos of my life, but I also really didn’t want to spend another twenty minutes in the car next to Dax. After what happened yesterday, it was best we both stayed far apart from one another unless absolutely necessary.
He was right. I wasn’t in the right headspace for any complications right now, and I wasn’t going to stay at Bellissima forever. Eventually, I would leave the restaurant and go back to my normal life. I would find an internship, go back to school, and move on just like he said.
Unfortunately, none of that could happen until Chad and Gabe were no longer a threat to me, Tara, or anyone else. But from now on, Dax and I would only communicate if it was about work or them.
That night, Ricky drove me home in his periwinkle Smart car.
The stereo system had an outline of rainbow strip lights he explained flashed in the rhythm of whatever music was playing.
Tonight, it was a mixture of Lady Gaga and Prince.
Ricky and I shared tidbits of our pasts as he took me through the city.
He was born and raised here in San Francisco, his grandparents were from Sweden, and he dreamed of opening his own karaoke bar in the Castro someday.
His stories made me feel lighter, and I was ultimately grateful I accepted his offer to take me home.
When he dropped me off in front of my apartment, I was genuinely convinced I’d made a new friend.
Ever since moving to San Francisco, Tara had been my one and only.
She was the one who always made plans for us, introduced me to other people, and really included me within her circles.
Even though my friendship with her held a special place in my heart, it felt really good to connect with someone who saw the world the way Ricky did.
I was glad that I made a new friend on my own, and I had a feeling he would be someone I’d know for a long time.