me.
Everyone was silent.
Finally, Tate spoke. To me.
“You get a cell phone yet?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“You gonna get one on your day off tomorrow?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“Mm,” he murmured.
This was a mysterious response and I didn’t like the idea of a mysterious Tate so I asked, “What?”
“Nothin’, babe.”
I turned to him. “ Please , can you stop calling me babe?”
“No,” he answered.
I rolled my eyes and lifted a hand, palm up, to him. “Can I have your keys?”
“Why?”
“I’m going to go do a stock take in the back.”
His eyebrows went up even as he blinked. “You’re gonna do what?”
“A stock take. Count what you have and see if it’s the same as what’s on the stock sheet.”
“Bubba and Krystal do that,” Tate told me.
“Well, I’m saving them the trouble,” I told him back.
“Why?” he asked.
I swung my arm out to the bar. “No one’s here. There’s nothing to do.”
“So get a soda, take a break,” Tate suggested.
“I can’t not be busy,” I replied.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I’m working, you’re paying me. I can’t drink a soda and chitchat. That’s not right. I need to be doing something.”
“Maybe you should get her to do a trainin’ course for Tonia and Jonelle,” Nadine put in and Tate’s head swung in her direction in order to grin at her.
We were close but even when we weren’t close I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him smile.
He looked good smiling.
I straightened my spine and lifted my hand up again.
“Captain, can you just give me your keys?” I asked, sounding as exasperated as I was.
He looked down at me, still grinning, I did my best to ignore how good that looked pointed in my direction and he dug in his front jeans pocket, came out with the keys and dropped them in my hand.
“Knock yourself out,” he said.
“Thanks,” I returned and hightailed it to the hall.
* * * * *
My stock take took awhile because it was a big job and I kept going out to check if there were more customers. Around five thirty, I made note of where I stopped and headed out as the after work crowd was rolling in.
At six thirty, the after work crowd suddenly included Wood.
As I was waiting for Dalton, who’d showed a half an hour earlier, to fill my order, Wood slid onto the stool beside me. I looked at him and smiled.
“Hey there,” I said.
“Hey Lauren,” he smiled back. “Car’s done.”
“Find anything I need to know about?” I asked.
He shook his head. “All good.”
That would be the case. Brad had been obsessive about taking care of our cars even though I thought this was nuts considering he got rid of them to upgrade every two years. On a stringent schedule, he had the oil checks done, the tires rotated, the engine tuned and both our cars regularly detailed. Not cleaned, detailed . He spent a fortune on it. Crazy.
“Wanna drink, Wood?” Dalton asked him.
“Yeah,” Wood said on a chin lift, “Coors.”
“Gotcha,” Dalton replied and turned to the fridges.
“When’re you off?” Wood asked.
“Sorry?” I was hefting up the tray that Dalton loaded and concentrating on balancing it on my hand.
“Tonight, baby, when’re you off?” he repeated and his voice had gone gentle and he’d called me baby so my eyes shot to his just as my heart started beating faster.
“Seven, depending on when one of the girls shows.”
“Ridin’ out tonight,” he told me then went on. “You wanna be on the back of my bike?”
“Sorry?” I repeated, a thrill going through my belly at the thought of riding on a bike. I’d never done it but always wanted to, always. I figured that thrill was a bit more thrilling because Wood would be the one in front of me on that bike.
“You get done, I’ll take you to your car, follow you to the hotel and you and me can ride out.”
“I need to get dinner,” I said to him and he smiled.
“Then you and me’ll ride out and get dinner,” he
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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