Regan Harris Box Set Page 2
"Yes, ma’am!” I said, saluting with two fingers. Anais’s goal in life was to mold me into a refined woman.
“Don’t be cheeky, darling,” Anais said.
I graced her with my biggest smile, batting my eyelashes. I leaned over to give her another kiss and a quick squeeze. Anais might come off as stern, but she was fiercely loyal and protective of her loved ones. I was lucky enough to be one of them.
Peter poured himself another whiskey and gave me a long look up and down. "That weight you put on looks good on you."
Peter loved trying to get a rise out of people, and I was glad to hear him like this. The quiet, somber Peter was someone I was leery of. I gave him a curtsy to acknowledge the compliment.
"I'm off to meet Jax at the Dark Horse, wanna come?" I looked at Anais, expecting her to correct me. Again.
"No, no, but do you have a minute?" Peter seemed a little nervous, but Anais was ignoring him. Anais and I gave each other a hard time, but I did love her. She picked and poked over every little thing but was my biggest supporter of life’s major decisions. Even when I wanted to travel, she encouraged me. I would never forget her exact words: “A woman shouldn’t feel trapped in any place. If you want to fly, then fly.” I booked my airline ticket that day.
"Sure," I said, pulling out a bar stool.
"Would you be willing to help fill in at the pub until I can find a replacement for Anya? You don't have to, but you know how terrible I am at the office paperwork. You can say no." Peter rambled his thoughts.
For some odd reason that no one understood, I loved paperwork. I knew it was crazy, but the sight of a well-balanced spreadsheet made me hot and bothered. Plus, Gray and I could use the money. I mean, I could use the money. We came back every few months to visit but also to save money again for more travel. Working for a few weeks with Peter would help us, me, out quite a bit.
"Well, yeah, I'll help. I assume procedures are about the same? Oh, I have goosebumps thinking about it."
“Peter, I’m sure Regan does not want to work while home. Let her rest,” Anais said.
“It’s fine. Really,” I said, while Peter ignored his mother.
"Thanks. I'll have some of the other guys pick up Anya's shifts, that way you can come in each day whenever you’d like just for the paperwork. But, as I said, you can say no."
"I'm in. Do the cops know anything yet? Have you talked to them? Was it a robbery?” I waved my hand in the air, my mind going a mile a minute. “No, no, you said it wasn’t a robbery. Crazy boyfriend? Angry loan shark?"
“Nothing yet. The detective told me she was stabbed, but they weren’t sure—"
Anais stood to leave, cutting the conversation off. She pushed her unfinished drink to the center of the island before running her hand down her dress, smoothing the wrinkles. Anais had a way of always looking like she just left a funeral. She was wearing a black A-line dress, black tights, and sensible black shoes. Although her hair was graying, she had a polished-ness about her with it pulled back into a French Twist. It was her signature look. I’d never seen it down.
Anais had a fierceness over Peter that bordered on creepy. She stood between us now as if protecting him from me. Even though she would not say the word “gay,” I think she was secretly happy that he was; that way she would always be the only woman in his life. Seemingly resigned to me working for Peter, Anais thanked me for helping.
"It would be good, dear, and it would save us from throwing someone in too fast. You don't do anything anyway." Anais was the creator of the backhanded compliment. Peter was the master-apprentice, but with Peter, it had a touch more affection in it. Anais may have been one of my biggest supporters when it came to traveling but I think she found my career choices since then lacking.
"I write," I said, defending myself, even if it was a weak comeback.
"Of course, dear," Anais said, and kissed my cheek goodbye.
Chapter Two
The walk down Sheffield was pleasant. There wasn’t a Cubs game today, so the sidewalks were busy but not overly crowded. Restaurants and bars had their outdoor seating areas up and available. Spring was always my favorite time of year here. The bloom of the flowers, the people, and the food vendors coming out after a cold winter. Spring in Chicago was the best, especially when the weather hovered at eighty degrees with low humidity.
Sometimes, I missed the hustle and bustle of Chicago, but most often not. I still enjoyed visiting though. I had come to appreciate the laid-back lifestyle Gray, and I made . . . had made together. My breath hitched at the thought of him. I instinctively grabbed my heart. Like I was trying to hold it together by sheer will alone. I shook my head, stood up straighter and picked up my pace, but kept my hand over my heart, massaging the pain away. Jax would be the perfect distraction tonight.
Jax and I couldn’t be more polar opposite. I tended to stay behind the scenes while Jax liked to operate front and center. It worked well for us. She didn’t have someone competing with her for the spotlight, and I had someone to take the attention off of me.
Jax and I had come across the Dark Horse bar by accident. We were supposed to meet one night at another bar down the road, but it had closed early, so we went to the Dark Horse by default. And never, ever left again.
The Dark Horse was a Pittsburg Steelers fan bar, but I didn’t hold it against them. The good qualities of the bar far outweighed the bad. It was a small, dark room with a handful of tables and several TVs. The staff was amazing, but we always looked for our favorite bartender, Rachel. No matter how long it was since our last visit, she always got excited and ran around the bar to hug us. I looked forward to seeing her every time.
I found Jax sitting at a table on the back patio, waiting semi-patiently. She was turned around in her chair, fingers drumming on the backrest, and her leg jumping up and down. She was engaged in a conversation with a group of five guys behind her. She took a sip of beer before laughing at something one of them said. A pint glass half-filled with dark liquid was in her hand. It swung randomly back and forth as she talked. Since she hadn’t noticed my arrival, I took a moment to see if she’d changed in the last six months.
Nope, she hadn’t changed a bit. Men still flocked, and she still kept her eye on all of them. I hoped someday a man would catch her attention and keep it. Soon.
“’Bout time you got here. I’ve missed you.” My favorite bartender, Rachel, reached up to hug me. She rubbed my back and gave me one final squeeze before letting go. “Don’t have time to talk. I’m busy. I’ll bring your beer over. Now, get over there before she lines up a date for every day this week.” Rachel grabbed my elbow and turned me toward the table.
Conversations with her were always rushed and usually one-sided. She worked here full-time and was usually short-staffed in the back. She always greeted me with a short hug, a squeeze, and a push to the table. As she worked tonight, she’d pop over to the table to slowly catch up, one comment or question at a time.
I took my time weaving through the crowd. I was excited to see Jax, but I was not up to playing wingman tonight. Tonight, I need some solo spotlight time.
“Sorry to interrupt this little party.” In one swift motion, Jax turned around, slammed her beer glass on the table, and was up for a hug. My head spun from the movement.
“You look like you need a drink. Let me get that for you and you both can join us.” One of the guys stood from the table.
“Sorry, boys, she’s all mine tonight,” Jax said before she grabbed my arm to lead me to my chair. Oh, thank you.
I took a minute to get comfortable, settling my small clutch on the edge of the table. Seating on the back patio here was prime real estate on game days. Today, about half of the tables were filled. Us, the group of guys in the corner behind Jax, and a few other tables of twos and fours. Jax was back in her seat as quickly as she had vacated it.
We played nice for a while, dancing around the subject. We caught up with work and friends and dates. Jax had been through a fe
w boyfriends since my last visit. I didn’t even remember the last one’s name. We ran out of pleasantries, and I knew the inevitable was coming, so I changed the subject.
“I’m assuming you have talked to Peter,” I said.
“Um, nope.” Jax picked up her beer and took a sip, her eyes never meeting mine. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Well, I’m not talking about the other ‘it.’”
“About what?” This time she met my eyes with an innocent smile.
“Did Peter tell you about Anya?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“So, you are admitting you knew what I was referring to?” I asked.
“Let’s not go that far. I never admit to anything. Yes, I know about Anya. It’s sad, but it happens. Let’s talk about something more fun.” A true city girl. Downplaying murder to ‘it happens.’
I watched the men behind us. The one furthest from Jax kept glancing her way. Maybe it would be a good distraction. I wouldn’t have to answer any questions about Gray and Jax wouldn’t have to hold me down and force me to talk. A win-win.
“Like boys?” I suggested.
“Like you.” Distracting her might be harder than I thought. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. Childish, right? I was a step away from stomping my foot and pouting.
“Don’t you care what Peter’s going through? I invited him tonight, but he said he needed to get some errands done. Whatever that means.”
“I’m not letting go that easy. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll join the table behind us for an hour, after that you are spilling the beans. I can see your mind working, trying to figure out a way to distract me.”
That time I did stomp my foot as I stood up. Jax, being Jax, had already turned around and invited us over. Everyone stood and shuffled chairs around the circular table to make room. A tall blonde moved an extra chair over for me. Jax wedged herself next to the dark-haired guy who had been eyeing her. I thought the hour would be as much fun for her as it would be a reprieve for me.
Rachel brought me a beer and squeezed my shoulder. She placed a ‘Reserved’ sign on our table, guaranteeing our spot for when we were ready. She had seen us join other tables and make friends often over the years. Sometimes, it worked out for all; sometimes, we needed an escape table.
I tried to play nice with the others, really, I did. I asked about their jobs and if they lived in the city. I asked about their hobbies. I even asked their middle names, but talking to strangers wasn’t in me, tonight. Their faces all blurred together, and I couldn’t keep their names straight, so I gave up. I finally sat back and focused on my beer while they started talking over me. Every so often, Jax would catch my eye and mouth how many minutes I had left until I was to bare my soul. I pretended not to understand what she was saying, and continued to stare at my beer, hoping for some inspiration.
If she wanted to play hardball, so could I. If she planned to pressure me into spilling the beans, then I needed a plan too. I was not ready to talk about it. I was barely admitting to myself how heartbroken I was. I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. Not yet. Not tonight. I made a mistake by thinking I could come out and enjoy myself.
I had two choices, fight or flight. If I stayed here, Jax would break me. She would force me to talk about it and frankly, I didn’t want to. That left me with flight. It might appear as if her full attention was on the dark-haired one, but she had kept me in her sight like a hawk. I couldn’t just leave, but where could I go?
I excused myself to the restroom, picking up my purse as I did. Jax caught my eye as I stood, I mouth the word ‘period’ to her, so she wouldn’t think twice about me grabbing my purse. Yep, I played the monthly card. I only came here with my purse, and that was the only excuse I needed to gather my belongings. She nodded and went back to her conversation. She and the dark one have had their heads together the whole time. She might not even notice I was gone! My hope was premature, her eyes bored a hole in my back as I walked away, but I headed straight for the women’s room.
I did a little happy dance in the bathroom stall, but I felt a twinge of guilt at lying. To ease my soul, I did use the facilities before bolting out the door. I touched up my lip gloss and smoothed down fly-aways. I debated on going back to Peter’s, where Jax was sure to find me, or hiding out at the movies first. The Brew and View was only a few blocks from here. The movies would be a safer bet, but if I could sneak into Peter’s without him seeing me, I could hide in my room all night. I decided on the latter. I just wanted to order some greasy food and put on my pajamas. I never should’ve come out tonight. I glanced at myself once more in the mirror before I opened the bathroom door.
“Nice try.” Jax leaned against the wall casually blocking the hallway to the front.
Crap.
My shoulders sagged for an instant before I straightened myself up. I am a grown woman. I am choosing to stay, and I am choosing not to talk about it later. With all the haughtiness I could muster, I turned back toward the patio and our table.
“You have eighteen minutes left.”
“You are creepy.”
“You are a chicken.” I turned my head and stuck my tongue out at her. “Keep going, brat. Their friend, Ben, showed up. He looks like your type.”
“I don’t want, or need, a man to distract me. I want to be alone.” Jax poked me in the back and nudged me toward the patio.
“You want to wallow in self-pity. I’m not allowing it. Go flirt. Have some fun.”
I didn’t know if I should be offended by that or not. What’d it matter? It was just one more person for me to ignore. I pushed through the door to the patio and headed back to the corner table. The group had all shifted a seat down to make room for the newest addition; his back was to me, and the chair next to him was the only one left empty.
The dark one pointed to us and said something to his friends. All of them turned as one towards us, like a pack of lemmings. I rolled my eyes before locking in on the new guy. That one I would not be ignoring. That one was exactly my type. I walked straight to the table, picked up my beer and dumped it down Ben’s shirt, shaking the pint glass until every last drop fell out.
Chapter Three
I put my glass down and walked straight out of the bar, not even pausing to say goodbye to Rachel, who had her mouth hanging open in awe. I didn’t look back to see if Jax was following me. In all of the years I had frequented the Dark Horse, I had never caused a scene. I had always been a model patron.
Ben’s laughter echoed through me as I left. I knew it was him. I’d know that laugh anywhere. I stopped myself from turning back around to dump another beer over him. I wanted to, but if I did, then he would know I cared enough to come back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I walked to Peter’s in half the time it had taken me to get down Sheffield. I stormed up the stairs, and frantically found some running clothes and shoes in the closet. I heard music drifting up the stairs from Peter’s bedroom but decided against talking to him. Only one thing would calm my nerves now. A nice long run along the lake path. I switched my leather watchband out for my rubber one and hit the pavement. All in all, I’d only been at Peter’s for three minutes. I didn’t think he even knew I’d come home. I left the place exactly how I found it.
I hadn’t run in two days with the travel home. I felt stiff and sore but kept moving. That jerk! I had hoped I would never see him again. I had hoped he had never left. I loved Gray but Ben’s leaving left a void in my heart full of what-might-have-beens. I kicked myself every time I thought of him over the past five years. Shame usually followed since the thought felt like a betrayal to Gray. I had run twice a day after Ben had walked out. The fact that I needed to run now fueled my anger, so I picked up my pace. My legs hurt from the excursion and my lungs burned.
I cut down Addison toward the lake and under Lake Shore Drive. I ran faster along the bike path, finally cutting across the lawn to the lake. I loved this place. It was my thinking spot. Or
my hiding spot, depending on how you looked at it. This spot is where I came to get away.
During college, I would walk here to study. I never could focus while in a stuffy library. I slowed my pace as I neared the cement steps by Belmont Harbor. I used to spread out with my books and highlighters and pens. In all honesty, I never got much studying done here. I would gaze out over the lake and watch the sailboats or stare endlessly at the skyline. This city was beautiful.
The pinch in my side forced me to slow to a walk. I took a moment to catch my breath. Clutching my stomach and bent over, I probably looked a little crazy. I straightened up and tried to walk it off.
I usually ran in the mornings. I had never been here at night. It was a bit scary. I found myself looking over my shoulder at every noise. During the day, there were runners, bikers, walkers, and sitters. Now, it was just me. I didn’t know when people started to thin around me. I wished I had paid more attention. I felt vulnerable and exposed. A shiver ran down my spine from the soft breeze.
I stopped and looked behind me, debating whether to return the way I had come or move forward around the harbor. I chose the harbor for the sole reason of electric lights. I had always been a wimp in the dark. One too many scary movies as a child. One too many chainsaw-wielding maniacs hiding in the woods.
I started jogging again. The stitch in my side hadn’t subsided, yet, but I wanted to get back to people surrounding me quickly. I stifled a laugh at the irony. I’m safer here without anyone around me. I would be in way more danger, in a crime-ridden city, surrounded by strangers. Strangers who could mug and assault.
I let myself laugh that time. The running had worked. My mind had cleared. At least enough to recognize my crazy thinking. Around the bend, I saw boats docked. Some were covered for the night, but some had people aboard them. My heart rate slowed since I was not alone anymore. I could call for help if need be.