Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
TEDDIE
I thought about ignoring the Zoom link, but when seven o'clock came, I found myself sitting at the table in Lyra’s kitchen and opening my laptop in front of me.
The device was slow, but eventually booted up.
I started to save for a new one, but that money went to the bar instead.
With any luck, I'd get another year or two out of the computer.
My fingers hovered over the buttons before I clicked on the crowdfunding app. At least that was fast to open. I couldn't complain about the internet in Saltgrave.
I logged in to see a couple more people donated twenty dollars each. I appreciated it, I did, but it wasn't going to get us over the line. Every little bit helped, of course, but sometimes it felt like pushing an elephant uphill. Or was that a boulder through the eye of a needle?
Okay, it was neither, but that didn't lessen the struggle.
I sent both donors a quick thank you and clicked on the messenger section to access the link. I half-expected it to have been unsent, but there it was, looking back at me. Harmless, as far as I could tell.
As I pressed on it, it occurred to me they may not turn up. All of this stressing and watching the time might have been for nothing.
Anxious, I sat back and fiddled with the end of my hair as I waited for the screen to load.
When it finally did, the camera at the other end showed only a blackened room. I squinted, trying to make out details. Was that a couch or a table I saw? I couldn't tell if it was either.
A heartbeat later, a light came on, dim, but bright enough to illuminate three faces staring back at me.
No, not faces, masks. Masks I'd seen before. The same three masks from the other night at Vertical. Out in the parking lot. Three men who walked away from me, only one looking back.
My breath caught in my throat.
Blondie sat on the left, leaning forward, a section of his hair falling over the top corner of his black mask.
The guy with intense eyes sat in the middle. Not glaring. Not angry as far as I could tell. Just locked on the screen in front of him.
The guy on the right lounged, arm over the back of his chair, posture suggesting he was bored already.
"You came," he drawled, putting additional meaning into the words.
My face heated. His tone was unexpected for what I thought was supposed to be some kind of business meeting. There was something else though. Something more. His voice sounded familiar.
Where had I heard him speak before? I thought quickly, but nothing came to mind.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I had some time to kill. I figured I'd listen to what you have to say." I should end this call right now, before things got weird. Weirder.
"You hear that?" Mr. Bored turned to the other two. "She had some time to kill." His tone was derisive. I could almost see his lip curl.
"Yeah, we heard." Blondie's eyes didn't leave the screen. His attention was on me. Did he recognize my voice? Did he have a clue who I was? Or that I recognized him?
I couldn't tell, and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask.
The man in the middle didn't respond to either of them. His focus was also on me.
"I have a proposal for you," he said smoothly. Whiskey on ice. That was how he sounded. Cool, delicious, but would probably burn all the way down my throat.
"What's your name?" I found myself asking. "If I'm going to do any sort of business with you, I should know that."
Shouldn't I? That seemed like a reasonable request to me. I didn't even know what they looked like. Or if they were serious. This could still be some sort of joke.
"One thing at a time, Theodora," Mr. Middle said slowly. The longer version of my name sounded like honey on his tongue. He’d looked me up. Of course, I hadn't tried to hide my identity, it was right there on the crowdfunding site.
"Teddie," I said anyway. "Everyone calls me Teddie."
I didn't miss the snort from the guy on the right. What was Mr. Bored’s problem? I was tempted to tell him he could leave if I was annoying him, but right now, I needed these guys more than they needed me.
That is to say, I needed their money. Implied money. If this was a waste of time…
Blondie glanced over at him, glaring.
I should have worn the mask I brought home form Vertical. It was around here somewhere. The thought I might need it, hadn’t cross my mind.
Since they knew my name, it wouldn't have helped to conceal my identity anyway. No, that ball was firmly in their court. The knowledge made me uneasy, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
"You need money to save the bar," Mr. Middle said. "We have money.” That was a start.
"What are you asking for in return?" I asked carefully. "A percentage of the profits? Part ownership of the bar?"
What would my dads think of that? Loams was their baby.
They'd put their hearts, souls, and wallets into it.
Someone else coming in and wanting to help make decisions?
That wouldn't sit well with them. Especially if that person was Mr. Bored.
I had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't try to contain his delightful personality for their benefit.
If ‘asshole’ was his default mode, that wouldn't go down well at all.
"We're not interested in any of those things," Mr. Middle said. "We're after something more interesting, more…" He paused for a moment. "Personal."
The word lingered between us for a few heartbeats. Clearly intended to be significant.
"What do you mean, personal?" I asked, looking sidelong in roughly the direction of the camera.
"We'll talk about it in person. I'll message you the time and place." Without another word, the call was ended, leaving me staring at the Zoom logo.
"What the— Okay then," I said, aware I was talking to myself. Apparently, asshole mode extended beyond Mr. Bored.
A moment later, a message popped up in the corner of the screen. He didn’t waste any time.
If I had any fucking sense, I should block Hel6913 before this went any further. They’d messed with me enough as it was. In spite of the assurances, they might still be wasting my time. The question was, why? Didn’t they have better things to do?
What if they were legit though? I could turn my back on exactly what we needed to keep Loams running. Could I forgive myself if I found out that was what I’d done? Could my dads?
Curiosity, and the desire not to have regrets, got the better of me. I pressed on the message.
The location wasn't a remote beach. It was a small park a block from Loams. One with a playground usually overrun with children and their carers. Not the place you'd ask someone to go if you were intending to murder them. Unless you were particularly sadistic.
I wasn't going to rule out that possibility. From the brief conversation, I got the impression Mr. Bored had a sadistic streak a mile wide.
Did I have a masochistic streak to go with it?
Was I intending to go?
This whole situation was bizarre to say the least, but what choice did I have? If they had money and were willing to part with some of it, it might be enough to save the bar. At the very least, it might keep the place afloat long enough for us to figure out a more permanent solution.
I fiddled with the end of my hair and wondered what he meant by 'personal.' What could they want in return for money? What could they want from me that their money wouldn't buy them?
Honestly, chances were I'd turn up to the park and they wouldn't. Maybe I'd find a film crew waiting for me, having a good laugh over a ridiculous prank.
I closed the laptop as Lyra headed into the room, her hair damp from the shower. She got settled on the couch, a container of ice cream in her hand, two spoons sticking out of the top. In her other hand she held a bottle of wine.
"You're just in time," she said. "It's been too long since we binged anything."
"It's Monday night," I pointed out. "Don't you have to work tomorrow?"
"Yeah but why should that stop us from having fun?" She patted the couch next to her.
I flopped down beside her and pulled one of the spoons out of the ice cream.
She stared at me while I dug in for a scoop.
The spoon halfway to my mouth, I stared back. "What?"
“Okay, what is it?" she asked. "You have that look on your face."
I placed a hand against my cheek. "I do not."
"You absolutely do," she insisted. "Did you have a conversation with what’s-their-name? Hel6913?"
I wasn't sure how much I should tell her, but given they hadn't told me much, I guessed I could be forthcoming about the interaction. What would they do? Back out? They hadn't committed to anything at this point anyway.
"Him and his friends," I said finally. "I don't know what his name is." I told her about the conversation, including the part where Blondie was sitting beside him.
She stared at me. "For real? The guy you hooked up with at Vertical is in on trying to save Loams? That's fucking wild." She shoveled a big scoop of ice cream and managed to fit all of it past her lips. Impressive, but nothing came between Lyra and ice cream.
“I didn’t hook up with him, but yeah it’s just a little wild," I agreed. "I can't help wondering if it's some kind of set up." I frowned as I thought. "I didn't get the impression Blondie had any idea who I was. It could be coincidence."
She mulled that over before shrugging one shoulder and scooping out more ice cream. "Are you going to meet with them?"
"I don't know," I said with a sigh before I popped my first spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. "I feel like I owe it to my dads to turn up and hear what they have to say. The worst that can happen is I'll say no to whatever they have to propose, right?”
I had to remember I still held some power here. Nothing was set in stone. I could walk away anytime. A small voice in the back of my head reminded me how badly I needed this. How badly my dads needed this. Still, I couldn't bet everything on this one opportunity that may never happen.
"I can come with you if you want," Lyra offered. "Moral support and all that."
"I have a feeling they'd prefer if I came alone," I said. "I'll be okay," I added quickly. “It's a very public place. They won't be able to try anything."
"Not even Blondie," she said teasingly.
I didn't hate the idea of fucking him in a public park in broad daylight, but not one where children were nearby. A girl had to have some limits, right? I had to remind myself he'd given me the brush-off. I should be pissed off at him, or at least cautious.
On the other hand, I wasn't looking for a relationship, so I'd keep my mind open. If he proved to be the asshole I'd caught a glimpse of, maybe I'd fuck him anyway, just for fun. Life was too short not to take orgasms when the opportunity arose.
"You're thinking about his cock, aren't you?" Lyra asked.
“From what I could tell, he had an impressive cock," I said with a nod. I leaned forward and snagged the wine bottle before taking a gulp straight from it. "What are we watching?"
She picked up the remote and started to flick through options. "Right now, your sex life is more entertaining than most of these," she complained. She stopped on some hockey romance show everyone was talking about, but neither of us got around to watching yet.
She glanced at me, questioning look in her eyes.
I nodded and sat back as she pressed play, remembering that guy from college this morning.
What did he say? Something about a six-foot-four hockey player about to fuck another character's brains out.
That was what I needed right now. An escape into some good, honest smut.
Something to help me forget that I got myself off after talking to him.
Even though he was a massive prick, thinking about him made my pulse ratchet up. It was totally unfair how hot he was, and that he was an asshole at the same time. Figured.
I exhaled softly and let myself get lost in the sex lives of other people. Which, in spite of what Lyra said, was entertaining enough for me.
For now.
Certainly a lot less complicated to watch than it was to live.
After a while, my mind wandered to the three masked men I'd seen on my screen. Who were they really? Why did they want to help me and my dads? What could they want in return?
I had a few ideas, but one by one, I dismissed them. Most of them were like something straight out of a romance book or TV show. People didn't do stuff like that in real life, did they?
I shouldn’t be, but I was a tiny bit excited to meet them and see what they had to say. What could they suggest that I’d say no to?
Okay, I could think of a few things, but when it came down to it, if they were willing to help save the bar, I'd do almost anything.