8
The bouncer at the entrance recognizes me and this time doesn’t bother with a physical check. He opens the large door for me, and I slip in.
The girls are already sitting around the tables with some men. Some are new, but some I recognize from last night. A beautiful girl with flowing, dark blonde hair is serving them drinks. She’s wearing short shorts and a transparent tank-top. I shake my head in disappointment.
“Elena, you’re back.” Charlie shouts from the bar and I look at him surprised. I go to the bar and he leans forward to whisper. “Every time they bring me one of the strippers to fill in, it makes me think of quitting.”
“Fill in?” I ask, not understanding him.
“Liam said you wouldn’t be back.” He jerks his head toward the round table, where Scarface is sitting with a man I haven’t seen before.
“He was wrong.” I answer sharply. “So tell the stripper to get the hell out of my kingdom.”
Charlie bursts out laughing as the girl reaches the counter. “Linda, you’re off,” he tells her, his tone hard.
She sighs in relief, and clicks on her high heels towards the door on the left and disappears behind it.
I put my bag down behind the counter and go over to the first table. When I return to Charlie, Scarface is sitting on the barstool, drumming his fingers on the bar. The man who was previously sitting with him, passes him by, puts down an envelope in front of him, and leaves.
“What are you doing here?” he asks angrily, and I am surprised to see that the beastly side has taken over his face, leaving no trace of the angelic side.
“Working,” I answer calmly as I arrange napkins in three ruler-straight stacks on the counter.
“We agreed you wouldn’t come back.” He pulls a napkin out of the middle pile and rolls it up in his hand.
“You agreed.” I replace the napkin he took with another, and recreate the symmetry I need. “I did a good job last night, so you don’t have any reason to fire me.”
“Fine, I’m not in the mood to argue with you.” He raises his voice. “Get the hell out of here now.”
“No!” I cross my arms over my chest and he jumps off the stool and stands in front of me. Suddenly, red lights start flashing in the room and he glances at Charlie. The background music changes to something fast and catchy. The blonde girl and the twins start dancing sensually between the tables.
“What’s going on?” I ask in confusion.
“Stall them!” Scarface orders.
“Who?” I ask, glancing nervously to the sides.
“Elena, don’t let them go upstairs until I come back down.”
“Who?” I ask again, but he’s already gone up the staircase.
I don’t even have a chance to ask Charlie what the hell Liam is talking about when two men come in. The bouncer from the entrance follows them and when Charlie nods in his direction, he disappears behind the door again.
The two men are wearing jeans and polo shirts, they look just like all the other men who came here last night and tonight. One is very short with glasses; the other is tall and thin. They look around and walk over to Charlie. “Where’s Liam?” the tall one asks, and I think I hear a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
“I’m sure you have a warrant to show me,” Charlie says firmly with a question in his voice. The short man with glasses squeezes through the bar stools and waves the paper in his hand. As Charlie takes hold of the paper, I rise on my tiptoes and take a picture in my head.
“I see….” Charlie mumbles and looks to be at a loss.
“May I offer you a drink?” I ask. They're both looking at me now.
“I haven’t seen you here before.” The tall one narrows his eyes at me. “Are you new?”
“Yes,” I answer and feel relieved that he’s talking to me. Now I can stall him like I was told to.
“Student?” he asks and glances at the staircase.
“Yes. Physics,” I proudly answer.
“Physics?” he repeats surprised. “What kind of classes do you take to get a degree in physics?”
I open my mouth to answer, but he doesn’t wait for a reply and takes a step forward, still looking at the staircase.
“Wait!” I shout and he stops. His partner stands next to him like an angry little terrier. “It’s not polite to ask a question and then walk off without hearing an answer.” I plant myself in front of both of them and when I realize that I’ve caught them unprepared, I start talking. “Physics actually describes the physical world we live in. Physics studies begin with one-dimensional problems.” The tall man stifles a yawn, but to my surprise he doesn’t try to stop me. I continue. “It’s important to understand that the subject of physics is divided into two parts. The physics of Newton, Einstein, of the world, that deal with everything larger than an atom. When we deal with things that are smaller than an atom, we talk of quantum physics or quantum mechanics…” I stop when the men in front of me raise their eyes and look at something behind me. I turn around and Scarface smiles at me.
“I see that you’ve met Elena, my new waitress.” He places his hand gently on my shoulder and moves me aside. “How can I help you this evening?”
“We need to check that there’s no illegal activity going on upstairs,” the tall policeman says, sounding embarrassed again.
“As far as I know, private dances are still legal,” Scarface answers calmly, “but if you insist on checking, I’ll be happy to accompany you.” He stretches out his arm and motions for them to go up before him. They accept his invitation and all three of them go upstairs.
“I managed to stall them,” I say to Charlie proudly.
“You did more than that, I think you managed to put them to sleep as well.” Charlie bursts out laughing, and I throw a damp cloth at him.
The three men come down the stairs again, together with Tommy.
“We’ve had reports of prostitution, drugs, weapons…” the tall one says apologetically.
“Oh, come on. You know that our competitors will do anything to have us shut down.” Liam pats him affectionately on the shoulder, and he nods in understanding.
“There’s no smoke without fire,” the short cop says dryly, and leaves without waiting for his partner.
“He’s new at the department,” the tall one says apologetically, “and I’m the one who got to be stuck with him.” He sighs. “Where are the days when you were with us….” He picks up the drink that Charlie poured him and empties it down. “I hope I won’t have to come back and visit you anytime soon.” He winks, shakes Tommy and Scarface’s hands and starts leaving. Suddenly he stops and turns around towards me. “Do you want to carry on telling me about physics over dinner sometime?”
“Sorry, I work here every night,” I say and peek at Scarface. He nods once in agreement and the cop shrugs in disappointment and leaves to find his partner.
The music has gone quiet again. The twins sit down with a heavyset man as the slender blonde is sitting on the lap of a guy who looks like he could easily be attending lectures with me.
“Which son of a bitch judge gave them that warrant?” Tommy sits down at the round table and leans forward with his elbows on it, and Scarface sits down across from him.
“I didn’t have time to check,” Charlie says in frustration, putting two bottles of beer down for them. The door on the left opens and Mike walks over, motioning to Tommy to make room for him on the couch.
“Judge Dickens,” I say and put a white napkin down by each bottle of beer.
“You didn’t even see the warrant,” Charlie says angrily.
“Fine, I didn’t see it,” I reply nonchalantly and go back to the counter.
“Elena,” Scarface calls me over. “Sit down.” He signals Tommy and Mike to move up next to him and I keep standing. “Sit,” he asks again.
“But you said I’m not allowed to sit down,” I sway on my feet uncomfortably.
“You can sit here,” Tommy answers instead and laughs. “No one will try and touch you here.” He is amused. “You see?” He folds his hands over his chest, still laughing.
I sit down next to Mike, opposite Scarface and look around to make sure that no one needs my services.
“What did you see in the warrant?” Scarface asks. He pushes his beer over to me and gestures that I can drink it.
“Everything,” I say, pushing the bottle away from me and arranging a white napkin next to it.
“So tell us what it said.” He plays with the napkin and I can’t resist pulling it back to me, smoothing it out and placing it back next to the bottle.
“Today’s date. The address here. The full names of all three of you and that the warrant allows them to search for prostitution on the premises.” I suddenly comprehend this bizarre situation and take the bottle of beer from him, take a big swag and return it. “Signed – Judge Dickens.” I clean off some imaginary dirt on the table with my fingernail and raise my eyes again. He looks at me in awe, as the angelic side of his face takes over and my stomach clenches at the sight of his beauty.
“That bastard Dickens,” Tommy hisses angrily. “One of the girls told me about the kinky things he likes. I can send her back to him and…”
“No,” Angelface replies calmly. “There’s no reason to start a confrontation with him now.” He falls silent and looks at me again, as if he understands that I may have heard more than I was meant to. “You can go back to work now.” He takes a gulp from the bottle and I start to get up.
“Why don’t you let your hair down out of that braid?” Mike brings his hand closer toward my head and I jump back, startled. He doesn’t seem to notice the turbulence his action caused me, and continues. “If you let your hair down and change those jeans and T-shirt, you could be really popular around here.” He stands up in front of me. “And you could work in my place and make some real money, not the pennies you make here.”
“Mike, that’s enough.” Angelface says firmly.
Mike run his hand through his red hair and walks around me. “At least let her come and see my club,” he says and keeps on walking. “I’ve got a feeling that she could be the life of the party.” He opens the large door and it slams closed behind him.
“Right, I’m going back to my kingdom as well.” Tommy rubs his red eyes and stands up. “They’ve wasted too much time dancing. It's time for some action.” He yawns and goes upstairs.
I clear their bottles and go back to my waitressing duties. Men come and go and this continues until the early hours of the morning. I don’t feel tired until the last customer has left and then I lay my head down on the bar.
“Coast’s clear!” the bouncer calls from the entrance and the girls leave, one by one. Charlie also leaves, but I’m finding it hard to get up off the barstool. Maybe I’ll close my eyes, just for five minutes.
“Elena.” I feel someone touching and shaking my shoulder gently and I open my eyes. Angelface looks at me with a smile. “I didn’t realize that you were still here.”
“It’s OK,” I say, stretching my arms. “I took a little nap, just for five minutes.”
“I think it might have been a bit longer.” He looks at his watch and I pull his wrist toward me, crying out, shocked.
“I have class in an hour.” I jump off the stool and look for my bag behind the bar. “It’s an important class, with my professor,” I'm mumbling, stressed out. “I have to go home first… call me a taxi….”
“I’ll take you.” He pulls the bag from me and marches outside.
I follow him, overwhelmed with thoughts. Where will he take me? I don’t know him at all. I don’t think I want him to know where I live. And I’m really not comfortable with him invading my private space.
“Maybe you should just call me a taxi.” I walk faster to match his steps.
“Nonsense,” he says dismissively. This way you’ll have time to change clothes and I’ll take you to the university.
“You’d wait in my house?” I ask, terrified.
“I can wait for you outside.” He laughs, and for some reason his laugh calms me. He stops in front of a massive black motorcycle and I’m shocked by the unexpected intimacy that this ride will force me into.
“Come on.” He pats the leather seat and I shake my head no.
“Scared of motorcycles?” he asks teasingly.
“Not at all.” I try to imitate his tone.
“Scared of me?” he asks, not teasing at all this time.
“I don’t think so.” Even I'm surprised by my honesty.
“I didn’t think that you’re the type of girl that would let a few scars bother her.” He takes my hand and places it on the scarred side of his face. I am so close to him and all I can see is the angelic side, which makes my stomach clench in excitement. “See?” he slides my hand over his cheek. “Just a few harmless scars.”
“Thirteen,” I pull my hand away and sit on the motorcycle.
“What?” he asks confused.
“Thirteen scars. They don’t scare me; they just annoy me.”
He gives me the helmet and I put it over my head.
“I have a problem with asymmetry,” I say sharply and he bursts out laughing. His laughter is contagious and I join him.
“I see. Well, it seems that every genius has some craziness in them,” he says and places my hands on his hips. He starts driving and I yell out my address.
“I know,” he says and drives faster.
My thin shirt is sticking to my skin and the fact that we’re separated by only two pieces of fabric is driving me crazy. I can’t even recite formulas. Every time he takes a curve I have to hold on tighter and a strange and unfamiliar feeling spreads down my back, to my stomach and between my thighs. His muscular back caresses my chest with every move and sends shivers down my body. Wait, my exhaustion must be getting to me. After all, it’s impossible that I, who always says that I could only be physically attracted to someone who challenges me intellectually, waiting now impatiently for another curve in the road so that I feel tingles all over my body from a touch of a man who represents everything I despise in life. I force myself to loosen my hold on him a little and allow the light breeze to cool my body. He stops in front of my building and I get off the motorcycle and stand before him.
“How did you know my address before I told you?” I remove the helmet and rearrange my braid on my back,
“I knew everything about you ten minutes after you came into the bar,” he replies dryly and takes the helmet from me.
I look at him in surprised. “But I didn’t even tell you my full name.”
“Everyone has a wallet in their bag with their personal details,” he smiles, and I pull my backpack from him alarmed.
“That’s invasion of privacy,” I reprimand him.
“So was rubbing your chest on my back during our drive,” he’s still smiling, and I flinch back and nearly trip.
“There wasn’t any rubbing. I had to hold on to you so I wouldn’t fall off the motorcycle.”
“Did you enjoy it, at least?” He is getting up and I put my hand forward, motioning that he should sit back down.
“I know that anyone who manages a place like that can’t be completely sane.” I say angrily. “I hope you enjoyed feeling my body because someone like me could never enjoy being with someone like you .” I emphasize the last word mockingly, turn around and run into the building.
His words make me restless. I shower and feel angry at the fact that he realized that his touch affected me. I’m angry with myself. This twisted truth is screwing me up. Physical attraction is a fiction that ends as quickly as it starts. Intellectual attraction, on the other hand, is something that can last forever.
I dress in clean jeans and a T-shirt and stop in front of the mirror. While I quickly braid my hair, I inspect my body for the second day in a row. It feels wrong, as if I’m doing something that goes totally against everything I believe in. I’ve never given a second thought to the way I look. I'd rather spend my time developing my brain. But in spite of how that sounds, I’m not completely socially isolated. I’ve had admirers before, and there are always new ones, that I can have long conversations with about mutually interesting subjects. And sometimes even end the evening with a pleasant sexual encounter. I’ve never experienced real emotional intimacy before, but I've had the kind of intimacy that brings physical pleasure for a while. And then I always get bored. I wholeheartedly believe that when I find my intellectual doppelganger, I’ll be able to form a healthy relationship with him. Not based on an unfamiliar desire I know nothing about, and confuses me, but one that will give me an ongoing intellectual challenge that I can always understand. Right now, nothing is clear to me. I slide my hand over my breast and recall the tingling sensation I got from feeling Scarface’s back. My God, I’m going crazy! I move away from the mirror and go to the living room.
Johanna’s not home. She must be at the library already. This is the first time I’ve ever been jealous of her. Her special scholarship for foreign students means that she doesn’t have to worry about the financial side of things, while I have to look for my way back to equations and formulas in all sorts of shady places.
I go back out to the street and freeze when I see that the black motorcycle is still parked there.