Chapter 8
“Iiivvvvyyyyyy!” Caramel slurred at the end of our shift at Luscious. “Come help me with this stupid outfit.” Her arms flailed around trying to reach the back clasp of her performance bra.
“For Chrissake,” I teased as I stepped around her and unclasped the band. “Stop whining like a teenage girl whose mom wouldn’t let her get the low cut prom dress.”
“For your information,” she scolded. “She wouldn’t let me get the low cut dress and I did pout for hours.”
“Oh please,” commented Raven as she clouded us with hairspray. “You act like you had that dress on for more than an hour. I bet the floor wore it longer than you did.”
“Hey!” Carm snapped. “I didn’t take it off ‘till at least after midnight, thank you very much. Just woulda looked a lot more sexy taking off a deep V silk beauty rather than that damn poofy, fairy ball gown I was forced into.”
My ugly laugh belted full force through the room, joined by Nova’s cackle and Caramel’s sweet, tinkering giggle.
The breaking light of dawn shone through the dressing room windows and pulled a yawn from each of us. Saturday nights at Luscious were brutal, and we never made it out before the sun rose.
“Alright, ladies,” I sighed as I tied the last loop of my shoe laces and dusted off my jeans. “I’m going home and sleeping until at least Wednesday.”
“Me too,” Darcy said around another yawn.
As I turned to leave, Caramel called out, “Oh! Ives! Something came for you.”
I turned with no control over my ‘what the fuck’ expression. “What do you mean something ‘came for me’?”
“I mean someone dropped it off when you were on stage tonight.”
She held out a small pink box tied with a gold bow that shimmered subtly in the light. Both girls stared eagerly as I turned it over, searching for any sort of tag or writing.
Nothing.
“Open it!” Nova demanded.
“Hmmm,” I hummed under my breath and pulled one end of the ribbon. The bow fell apart just as easily as the lid slipped from the box.
“Well?” Caramel asked, her voice squeaky and impatient. “What’s in it?”
I pulled a folded note off the top and marveled at what sat on the pearl colored cushion inside the box.
Ivy,
Somehow, I thought it would be less creepy if I brought this to your place of business rather than your house.
As I’m writing, however, I realized that it was a lose/lose situation.
Anyway, I thought you should replace your pepper spray with mace.
Did you know mace has small amounts of tear gas in it?
I’m hoping you don’t decide to use it on me since this is probably the creepiest thing I’ve ever done.
I took the mace from the box and smiled as I rolled it between my fingers. It was pink and pocket sized. Underneath it was a small chain necklace.
I couldn’t find any rooftop sized bat signals on the internet so I settled for a necklace. I thought maybe you could hold it in front of a flashlight if you ever needed non-saving again. Or, maybe even if you just wanted to see me again? Because I’d really like to see you, Ivy.
Awkwardly,
Batman/Joe
I lifted the necklace from the box and could feel the flush of my cheeks extend down to the base of my neck. I tried to hide my smile by biting my lip. I couldn’t stop it if I tried.
P.S.
I forgot the flashlight because I suck. Meet me for coffee and I’ll reimburse you?
“Ivy’s got a stalker! Ivy’s got a stalker!” The girls chanted in unison.
I rolled my eyes and popped the lid, pretending my pulse didn’t skip. The ribbon was satin-slick under my thumb.
“Shut the hell up.” I threw the box lid at them with a mischievous smile, heat flushing my neck in spite of me. “He’s not a stalker. He’s just some guy.”
Just some guy.
A guy who pulled a gun to save me; who made my thoughts race and go impossibly quiet all at once. The wounds on my knuckles from last night ached as if my mind was manifesting the guilt just to shove it in my face.
How would a vigilante like Joe feel about a murderer like me?
“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Caramel, Nova, and Raven sang aloud.
“Whatever, hoes,” I grumbled to hide the shaking in my voice. I had to get the fuck out of there. “I’ll see you later.”
I gathered Joe’s gifts and practically ran out the door to flag down a taxi. There was no way I’d be walking after twelve hours in heels.
The worn leather seat creaked as I settled, and I tried not to count how many patches of black duct tape held it together. “Park place building,” I said breathlessly. “Break the speed limit the whole way and I’ll throw in an extra fifty bucks.”
Because I needed to know the meaning behind what he’d sent. I needed to decide if “just some guy” was a problem or a possibility before I talked myself out of both.
The way the cabby took off damn near gave me a serious case of whiplash. We made it to my apartment building in record time. He grunted a thanks as I threw the bills through the plexiglass partition and the car tires were squealing away before I even made it to the stoop.
I ghosted through my postwork routine on autopilot. All clothes off at the door, into the washing machine alongside my duffle bag and all of the money it held, shower, skin care, binge eat, and collapse.
My mattress was like a cloud, swallowing me whole as I sank into it with a relieved moan so deep it could have been pornographic.
Jesus joined me and, of course, my custom thousand dollar mattress wasn’t enough for him.
“Seriously, dude?”
He didn’t deign to answer me as he curled all one hundred pounds of himself up on my back and made prickly biscuits until he snored.
“If you weren’t so cute, Jesus, I’d have you crucified upside down and hanging above my bed.”
I was too tired to fight him. I should get up, put on some pj’s and take the towel off of my wet hair. Maybe even turn the lights off or put my head on a pillow instead of half way hanging off the bed.
Couldn’t be fucking bothered.
Instead, I stared at the opened box sitting on my night stand. My pulse did that stupid skip thing. Joe was as charismatic as he was protective. He’d stood between me and assault, pulled a gun with confidence and was ready to kill a man for my honor.
I reached out and fingered the silk bow on the box.
“It’s just a stupid gift, Dany,” I whispered half-heartedly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
I said it, but only part of me believed it.
As my eyes grew heavier, the clean smell of Joe lingered in my memories, and the side of me that doubted his intentions pulled me into a restless sleep.
A sleep full of memories I’d hope to let lie.
***
“So,” Andrew said around a mouthful of French fries. “Dany.”
“Andrew,” I answered with a grin.
“Have you lived here your whole life, or is this magic city of St. Louis new to you? I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“Well first, St. Louis isn’t exactly the rural farm town size, so this being our first meeting isn’t as unexpected as you seem to make it.”
“Okay,” he chuckled and raised his beer bottle before taking a sip. “Fair enough, you got me there.”
“And second, I don’t normally frequent this part of the city. Too big, too loud, too smelly.”
“I feel like I need to defend the honor of my home, but you haven’t told any lies. Let’s chalk it up to character.”
“Oh yeah? You call this charm?” I gestured around the bar. “It smells like spit tobacco and old fish oil in here, and I don’t think any of the men have all of their teeth.”
“I’m only missing four of the thirty-two God gave me, and they were deemed useless by a professional.”
“Fine,” I said. “We will call third molars the exception, giving you a passing A minus.”
“Yes!” Andrew flung his arms out and knocked over all three glasses of water we’d collected.
“Shit!” We exclaimed as water soaked my shirt, pooling through my jeans and to my underwear.
“Oh my God, Dany, I am so sorry.” Andrew grabbed napkins and began the world’s clumsiest attempt at dabbing my wet clothes.
It was… endearing.
“Andrew,” I said, though he didn’t hear me. “Andrew,” I tried again and, when his stricken eyes met mine, let out the world’s ugliest laugh.
“What— Why are you laughing?”
I looked down with my arms splayed wide. He followed my gaze and his panic melted into horror. One hand was cleaning up my breasts while the other was between my legs.
Andrew yanked his hands back as if he’d been caught fondling the Virgin Mary. “God I really fucked this up.”
“You haven’t fucked anything up.”
A waitress came by with a pile of towels and I wrung the water out of my shirt, stealing glances at Andrew. He watched in horrified silence. The genuinity I found there called to my impulsive nature. Without regret, I touched his shoulder and asked, “Do you wanna get out of here?”