Читать книгу Unfaithful - Devon Scott - Страница 17

The harshness of sudden light makes his head throb. Like a siren in the dead of night, it is piercing, painful. Ryan, head down, glances up quickly. And just the act of doing so makes him dizzy. The bar is vacant. The bartender, Reese, is cleaning up behind him. She is scooping up half-empty beer bottles, placing them on a drab gray tray. A cup of coffee is positioned in front of him. Gingerly, he reaches out for the handle, puts the mug to his lips, and takes a sip. Lukewarm. He grimaces as Reese walks behind him, her hand on his shoulder as she leans in.

“You straight?”

Ryan nods imperceptibly, and then considers the absurdity of the question, considering his present circumstances.

Am I? Am I straight???

“Closing time, man, you gotta get going,” she says softly. “Coffee for the road?”

Ryan turns his head to stare at her. She is standing there, hand on hip, lower lip being mashed by her teeth. He watches her silently, nods. Reese moves behind the bar, removes the coffee mug, and replaces it with a fresh one. “Don’t have any Styrofoam cups here, so this’ll have to do. You can return it next time you’re in the neighborhood. Deal?”

She is only a few yards away, smiling, and Ryan, for the first time since his terrible ordeal, smiles back. He gazes upon her, notes a certain attraction. She is not at all like his wife, who is tall and thin, light skinned, auburn-colored hair that is normally worn flat-ironed and pressed. This woman is the opposite. Reese is shorter, more filled out, but with sensuous curves, a healthy ass, and large breasts. Her look, though, is what Ryan is drinking in now. The way she broods over him silently; the steel in her brow, nose, and tongue erotic, the afro puffs retro—and yet, it all works for her. And works well. The whole package says: sexy, neo soul. For the first time since he ran screaming from Miles’ car, he feels momentary peace.

Eye of the hurricane…

“You okay?” she inquires.

“Yeah, I’m gonna live,” Ryan responds.

“Good, ’cause I was worried about you. You’ve got this…this lost look to you. Like you just lost your best friend.”

Ryan considers her words. In a way, that’s exactly what happened.

“I’ll be alright. Thanks for the hospitality and the drinks.”

“It’s what I do,” Reese answers. She thinks to herself, There is something about this guy that I like…something intriguing.

Ryan rises from the bar, falters, and reaches out for support. Reese is there with a strong hand.

“Whoa—you need to take it slow. Listen, you’re in no condition to drive, so let me call you a cab.”

“Naw, I’m fine,” Ryan says, sucking in a quick breath before standing on his own. He reaches for his wallet and fumbles around inside before pulling out two twenties. “Keep the change,” he mumbles, palming them to the bar.

“You are too kind.” Reese grabs the bills and places them in the register. “I’m serious, man, you can’t drive. I’d take your keys right now, but then you’d have to wait until tomorrow evening to get them back. So, I’m gonna let you go—but only if you promise not to get behind the wheel.”

Ryan is waving her away as he takes several steps from the bar. It is obvious he has consumed too much liquor. His gait is that of an elderly man or someone with a knee injury. Reese comes from behind to join him, leading him to the door and up the stairs to the street. The going is slow. He needs to hold onto the railing for support. His other hand wraps itself around her waist. The air hits him in the face when they reach the street—a stark contrast to the warmth below. He pulls the halves of his jacket closer around him as he shivers involuntarily.

Reese leads him to the curb and says, “Here you go. You can catch a taxi. Shouldn’t be but a few moments before one arrives.”

Ryan glances around. He recognizes the street, but has no recollection of getting here. Automobiles line the road on both sides. Yet he doesn’t see his.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, arms still looped inside his.

“Can’t find my car,” he slurs.

“Told you, no driving. Want me to take your keys?”

She is leaning close to him. Even after a long night of tending bar and slinging beers, she still has a womanly scent. Ryan closes his eyes to lose himself in her scents.

“Not gonna drive,” he responds, his eyes locking with hers. “Just wanna know where I parked, that’s all.”

Reese grins. “Worry about it when you’ve sobered up. Listen, I gotta go—gotta get back inside to close up. It’s been real.”

Ryan attempts a smile. “Yeah, it has.”

She takes a half step away from him; Ryan wobbles; Reese stops.

“You sure you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says softly, waiting for her to disappear, “as soon as I locate my ride.”

The dash reads 2:15 A.M. Reese has cranked the engine twice before it fires. She sits in the front seat rubbing her hands together as she attempts to get warm. The heat is set on high, but this is a ten-year-old car, so it’s going to take a few minutes for the interior to warm.

She is bundled in a brown leather jacket with oversize buttons. The worn backpack slung over her frame now sits squeezed between her shoulder and the driver’s side door. Reese takes off slowly down the brown-stained cobblestone alley, which is strewn with overflowing trash bins. She makes a right, cuts through a mostly empty parking lot to the street, then pauses before steering into traffic. She is heading away from the bar, but as she steals a quick glance in her rearview mirror, she spies him.

Curbside, thirty yards or so away.

Coffee mug in hand.

Him.

Unmistakable.

Reese does a quick U-turn, accelerates to where he stands, and leans to roll down the passenger window. It is then that Ryan notices her.

“Dude,” she says playfully, “you can’t stand here all night. Why haven’t you caught a cab?”

Ryan leans his elbows on the open window, grins, and shrugs. Takes a sip of the still warm liquid.

“Been trying, but nobody wants to pick up a black man this late!”

Reese eyes him, sucks her teeth, and then reaches over to unlock the door. “Get in,” she says quickly. Ryan does. “And roll up the window,” she adds. “I’m freezing over here.”

She’s still idling near the curb. They turn to face each other.

“Now what?” she asks, realizing she has no clue as to why she’s offering this stranger a ride.

“I dunno. Still don’t know where I parked my car.”

Reese whistles. “Damn. I told you, no driving. Where’s home?” she asks.

Ryan begins to rapidly shake his head. “Naw, the wife wouldn’t appreciate a pretty young thang dropping me off. Nope.”

Reese notices that he pulls incessantly at the ring on his left hand. She considers his words as she stares. Warms a bit when she hears the compliment. “Okay…”

Reese pulls out. Ryan is silent, mug between his palms, staring out the window. She sighs heavily.

Reese is thinking, It is late. I have a stranger in my car. He has nowhere to go. And I have nowhere to take him…

Nowhere, but home.