Chapter 10
ten
. . .
Rachel
Francine had plans to meet her boyfriend after work, so I needed to take an Uber home.
It meant spending some of my precious tip money, but thanks to the extra two hundred dollars, I'd had a great night.
I was sure a man like Evan, handsome and rich, would grow tired of sitting in our seedy little strip club.
It would be easy for a man like him to cheat on his wife.
All I knew was I was walking out tonight with a nice stack of cash.
I'd pay a few bills and put the rest in my savings account.
I finished scraping off the layers of stage makeup. It always left my skin dry and pink. I grabbed my coat off the hook and headed out. Most of the patrons, including Evan, had shuffled out. My phone pinged with the alert that my ride was a mile away.
Jasmine was wiping down the drink counter. "Hey, before you go, your admirer left you this." She smiled smugly as she handed over a folded napkin. Black ink bled through it. "I didn't read it," she said, adding in another smug grin.
"Right. And I'm going to ride home on my silver unicorn." I contemplated tossing the napkin without reading the message, but something told me Jasmine would just fill me in on the contents anyway.
She waited patiently for me to open and read it.
I grinned smugly back at her, keeping the napkin tucked in my fist. "My ride is almost here."
Her shoulders deflated with disappointment. "Darn you, I wanted to see your reaction."
I dropped my chin. "I thought you didn't read it?"
"Oh, come off it. You know I read the damn note. And Ray, you know I love you, and I want to see you happy. Maybe this could be that winning lotto ticket we're all always dreaming about."
"Or maybe this is just a man unhappy with his marriage looking for someone to sleep with."
Jasmine pointed hard at the napkin with her gaze. "Please. I think this guy could be your knight in shining armor."
"Or a serial killer who has zeroed in on his next victim."
Jasmine gave me a pleading look.
I sighed. "You, my friend, might just be the most warped matchmaker on the planet.
" I straightened out the napkin and opened it.
The only light was coming from the pendants over the bar, but it was enough to read the stark black ink on the white paper background.
Evan had impeccable handwriting, of course.
Rachel, it was lovely meeting you tonight. I would love to meet with you outside of the club. I think I could make your life easier, and I know you could make mine … well … better. Here is my number. Just say the word, and we can meet for coffee. You pick the time and place.
All my best,
Evan
I looked up at Jasmine. She wore a hopeful smile. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
She grunted in frustration. "Oh, come on.
It's a coffee date. In a public place where, you know, people sip lattes.
How dangerous could it be?" Her brows danced up with an idea.
"I could send Oscar to get some coffee. He could do an undercover operation and pretend to be a coffee customer all while keeping an eye on you. "
I laughed. "Are we talking about six-foot-plus, gigantic Oscar who can't walk into a room without gathering a flurry of shocked gasps due to his size and general demeanor? I'm sure Evan won't notice him."
"All right. Not a great idea. But still—" She reached across the counter and took hold of my hand.
"I just want what's best for you, Ray. You're my good friend, and I adore that little Jack of yours, and I know how tough things are.
Think about it. Maybe this guy is so in love with you, he's willing to leave his wife.
Obviously, his marriage is shit, or he wouldn't be spending his nights in this dive. "
"Tommy's is not a dive because it has the most wonderful owner and manager.
" I glanced toward the hallway where Jasmine had set up an office inside a utility closet.
"Hey Jaz, do you have his last name? I know his first. It can't hurt to Google his name to make sure he's not on the FBI's most wanted list."
Jasmine clapped fast twice. "Does that mean you're considering meeting him?
I mean, unless he's on that most wanted list, then I'd definitely send Oscar to keep an eye on things.
" She laughed. "He uses a credit card." She motioned with her head, and I followed her to the office.
Jasmine flipped through a stack of receipts.
"Here it is. Evan Littleton." She wrote the name down on a sticky note and handed it to me.
"I hope that helps, and I also hope he's not wanted by the FBI. "
"Unless, of course, there's a reward," I teased.
"He won't be on the list. I know you're hoping that there's some kind of obstacle to keep this from happening, but I'm hoping for the opposite. I think you'd look pretty in the front seat of that Maserati." She turned up her eyes in thought. "Hell, even I would look pretty in that front seat."
"You would look stunning." I leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow night." I hurried off before she could continue with her silly happy ending scenarios.
A burst of cold air laced with bone chilling moisture hit me the second I stepped outside. My ride arrived moments later. I dropped into the backseat with a long sigh. I couldn't wait to get home and into bed.
I stared at the napkin a moment longer, then shoved it in my purse.
The whole thing was far too weird. Or was it?
I had to admit the part about making my life easier was enticing.
It seemed that whenever I felt myself getting ahead, making some progress on the future, another problem popped up to slap me back down.
This week it was the cars and the new owner of the apartment building.
A month ago, it was Mom spraining her ankle so badly she couldn't watch Jack or, for that matter, take care of herself.
I had to hire a sitter to cover for my night job, and it turned out that a nighttime sitter cost a lot more than a daytime one.
I was basically working for peanuts that month because all of it was going to the sitter.
I typed the name "Evan Littleton" into the search bar on my phone.
There was a British theater actor with the same name along with an attorney in Georgia.
The third entry was for a businessman, Evan Littleton, the Vice President of Walker Industries.
I clicked on it and found Evan's photo. Walker Industries was a shipping and export company, so he hadn't lied.
I scrolled to the next photo. Evan was standing next to an older man with a stern brow.
The caption read, "Stuart Walker of Walker Industries standing with his son-in-law and VP of the company, Evan Littleton.
" I kept scrolling and found a family photo of Evan with a pretty brunette and two small children.
He'd told the truth about all of it, and it seemed I'd untangled the complication in his seemingly unhappy marriage.
Evan was a success because he was vice president at his father-in-law's company.
A bitter divorce would probably mean an end to his job and all the perks that came with it.
I dropped my phone into my purse. "No thank you, Mr. Littleton. Too much complication for me."
The driver pulled into the apartment complex.
He was one of those much-appreciated silent drivers.
We didn't exchange more than a "thank you" and "have a good night".
I climbed the stairs to the apartment. Mr. Roscoe, our neighbor two doors down, was watching a loud movie on his television.
His hearing was poor. When he spoke to Jack, he spoke so loudly it made Jack shrink down in fear.
He was a nice man though and always had a quarter in his pocket for Jack.
Jack was saving for a new dinosaur, of course.
Mom was sitting on the couch with her head tilted at an almost ninety-degree angle to the side.
Her soft snores mixed with the quiet movie on television.
The light from the screen illuminated her face.
She slept so tightly she hadn't heard me walk in.
Not wanting to startle her, I shut the door quietly, but my first real step inside was directly on the creaky spot in the floor.
Mom sat up straight, winced and immediately pressed her hand to the side of her neck. "Darn it. I hate when I fall asleep like that." She winced again and pressed her hand against her stomach.
"What's wrong? Still having heartburn?" I hung up my coat.
"Yeah, it must have been those scrambled eggs I made for dinner. Jack ate the whole plate." She added in a proud grandma head nod.
I sat down next to her. "Mom, I don't think scrambled eggs can give you heartburn. I think you should make that doctor's appointment you keep talking about."
She waved off the notion. My mom was one of those people who waited until a limb was about to drop off or an organ was about to shut down before seeing a doctor.
And she was the same with me growing up.
At eight years old, I fell off a bar and broke my wrist. It was obviously broken because the hand was sitting at the end of an S-shaped wrist, but Mom was sure some ice and aspirin would make it all better.
She sent me to school, and the teacher nearly passed out when she saw my wrist. I was sent home, and Mom got a visit from social services.
After that, she was a little better about taking me to the doctor.
I sensed she was still in pain. "Let me get you some antacid."
"No, no, that stuff doesn't work, and it tastes awful." She scrunched up her face the way Jack did whenever I set a plate with vegetables in front of him.
I rested back and put my head on her shoulder.
"My sweet little girl, I've been thinking. I'm going to go back to the fabric store and see if I can get some hours. Misty always liked me. I could work from nine to three, which would give me plenty of time to take Jack to day care and pick him up."
"That's up to you, Mom, but we're still going to have to find a smaller and cheaper apartment.
The new rent is going to be too much for us to keep living here.
Honestly, Mom, I don't know what to do." For the first time since that crummy day when my car got totaled and the new building owners lowered the boom on the existing tenants, I allowed myself to cry.
I never liked to let my guard down in front of Mom and Jack.
I was the strong one. I was the person carrying the weight of our existence on my shoulders, and I never wanted to worry them, but at the moment, I had no idea how to keep our heads above water.
Mom reached over and patted my face. "I'll see about getting some hours at the fabric store. It doesn't pay much, but it'll help a little bit. And we'll find a nice apartment with better rent. You'll see, Ray. It'll be fine. We've made it this far together, and we've been in worse situations."
"But back then it was just the two of us and things were more affordable. Now we've got Jack."
My stomach growled. "Need some toast. Do you want a piece?"
"Maybe that'll help settle down my heartburn." Mom got up and followed me into the kitchen. "How was work? Anything interesting happen?"
I smiled as I stuck the bread in the toaster.
"Nothing out of the ordinary." I thought about my chat with Evan and the follow-up note on the napkin asking for a coffee date.
Then his words I could make your life easier danced through my head.
I wondered just what the heck he meant by that.
No, I had to get it out of my head. It didn't matter what he was offering. I wasn't taking the bait.
Mom's voice penetrated my thoughts. "Jam or butter?"
I released an exhausted sigh. "I think I'll splurge and have both."