355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » L. H. Cosway » Six of Hearts » Текст книги (страница 4)
Six of Hearts
  • Текст добавлен: 7 октября 2016, 16:40

Текст книги "Six of Hearts"


Автор книги: L. H. Cosway



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

“Never said you were coming tonight,” she says in a deep, husky voice.

“I’m showing my new friend Matilda here the ropes,” he replies, and I take the seat beside him.

She turns to me, her eyes scanning me up and down before giving me a friendly nod. “Ah, so this is Matilda. She’s exactly like you described her.”

I shoot Jay a questioning glance. He’s been telling people about me already? And more to the vain point, how, pray tell, did he describe me?

“This is my friend Jessie,” he says by way of introduction.

“Hello.” I dip my head and joke, “So, together you’re ‘Jessie J.’”

There’s a moment of silence as Jessie raises an eyebrow and suppresses a smirk while Jay gives my shoulder a pat.

“You know, like the singer?” I go on.

“I told you she has a great offbeat sense of humour,” says Jay to Jessie.

“Yeah, I get that.” Jessie smiles at me before turning back to him. “So are you going to place a bet, or did you just come to stare at my gorgeous mug all night?”

“A bit of both,” Jay responds before placing some chips down in a little circle on the table in front of him. Jessie raises an eyebrow at his chips and then picks up a deck of cards, shuffling them. She takes a plain blue card and hands it to the blonde woman, giving her what I’m thinking is a flirtatious smile. Oh. Oh. For a second there I’d wondered if she and Jay were an item. Now I’m seeing that’s probably not the case.

Jessie starts dealing the cards out. I watch with interest as Jay studies his: a seven of diamonds and a four of clubs.

I crane my neck and ask, “Is that good?”

“She really is a novice,” Jessie murmurs from her spot at the head of the table.

“A blackjack virgin,” says Jay with a mischievous grin. “I’m breaking her in slowly.”

The young guy chuckles quietly while the blonde woman flattens her lips in distaste.

“Nice visual,” I put in sarcastically.

Jay’s smile only grows bigger as his eyes lock on mine. “I like to think so.”

The blonde indicates that she’d like another card (which I learned in my reading last night is called a “hit”), but the guy simply waves to show he’s sticking with what he’s got. Jay gets another card, too.

I don’t know much about this game, but I did read that the person with the closest to twenty-one is the winner, and each card has its own numerical value.

Once everybody’s cards are revealed, it turns out that the blonde has fifteen, the guy has eighteen, and Jessie has seventeen. But Jay has a perfect twenty-one, winning the game. He’d put down one hundred euros’ worth of chips, so he wins a hundred.

“This is all so exciting,” I exclaim, really getting into it. It’s fun to watch people win money.

“That was too easy,” says Jay. “Let’s make things a little more interesting.” He places all the chips he won, the ones he put down originally, plus a few more in the circle this time.

They all start to play another game, and the blonde wins. It gets more complicated, and there are lots of fancy terms thrown around, like “double down” and “five card Charlie.” Jay does his best to explain each one as we go. Along the way I have another two Porn Star Martinis, so I’m well on the road to Tipsyville.

There’s a group of businessmen sitting at a table close by, having drinks and talking loudly. As I stare at Jay, I notice he’s discreetly watching them. He doesn’t seem annoyed that they’re being loud, but he does seem to be keeping track of them for some reason. It gets me curious, so now I watch them as well.

They’re mostly middle-aged men, but there’s one man at the head of the table who looks to be in his sixties. He’s drinking a glass of wine and laughing at something the man beside him is saying. He’s the one Jay has his eye on the most.

“Jay,” says Jessie quietly as she deals out more cards. There seems to be a warning in her tone.

He lifts his head to her slowly, almost like he’d been in a trance, watching the old guy.

“What?” he clips out. I haven’t heard him be short like this until now.

She stares at him for a long moment, her body tense, then says, “Quit eye-fucking the businessmen. You’ll make them nervous.”

Jay lets out a breath and looks away, picking up the cards she just dealt him. “I was just taking in the scenery,” he mutters.

“Sure,” says Jessie, then in a barely audible voice, “Tell that to the white shotgun look in your eyes.”

I momentarily wonder what she’s talking about, slipping my phone out and covertly looking up what “white shotgun” means. Turns out it’s a mob term for killing someone in such a way that they vanish without a trace. Okay, that’s not weird at all. Or disturbing.

In the next game, Jay wins by the skin of his teeth with eighteen, trumping Jessie’s seventeen. After seeing him play a number of times at this point, I really am impressed. If I were Jay, I’d almost have enough for my new sewing machine right now. Soon the young guy leaves and then the blonde does, too, but not without slipping her number to Jessie before she walks away.

Jessie smiles to herself as she shoves the piece of paper in her pocket.

Jay glances at the blonde’s retreating figure. “How’s that working out for you?” he asks curiously.

Jessie cocks an eyebrow. “How do you think? She’s got a bangin’ body.”

“Yeah, and enough jewellery to sink the Titanic.”

Jessie snickers. “So, any more gambling for yourself tonight, sir, or are you done?”

Jay’s gaze lands on me. “I’m thinking we’ll give our little virgin a chance to play.”

I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m still not entirely certain of the rules.”

“We’ll go slowly,” says Jessie.

“Like any good de-flowerer,” Jay puts in.

“I’ll have you know I was de-flowered quite some time ago,” I blurt humorously while pointing a finger at Jay, the martinis well and truly taking their hold.

Jessie laughs, but Jay turns in his seat to give me a heated look, his lips curving in an almost smile. “Come on, then, let’s hear the story.”

“Not a chance,” I answer sassily, rummaging in my bag for my chips. With a proud look on my face, I set down ten euros’ worth.

“High roller,” says Jay with a chuckle.

Jessie gives him a scolding look before saying to me, “You don’t have to bet big like this flashy bastard. Just put down whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I know,” I say, my heart thumping with anticipation. When I get my cards, I pick them up and hold them close so that Jay can’t see, annoyed with him for slagging me off about my small bet.

I doesn’t matter anyway, because I end up losing.

We play two more games, with me only putting down ten euros each time. I lose once and win once. The win gives me the confidence to go bigger, so I bet fifty euros this time. Two of the businessmen from the group Jay had been staring at come over and take seats at the table. I feel a bead of sweat trickle from my temple as I wait to see what the result will be. My original hand contains an ace and an eight of clubs, so I stick with it, my heart fluttering with excitement. I’ve got nineteen altogether. That’s good. Very good. I cross my fingers, hoping Jessie has lower than that, or something over twenty-one.

When she reveals she’s only got fifteen, I practically jump off my seat with glee. I won! I just won fifty euros. Wow! I’m so elated that I throw my arms around Jay’s shoulders and give him a big hug. I’m tipsy, but I still notice how good his body feels all pressed up against mine. He hugs me back, his warm hand at the base of my spine for a moment. Then I pull away.

“This calls for a celebratory drink,” I say happily.

“Yeah,” Jay replies, giving me a tender smile.

From the other side of the table, I hear the businessmen chuckling while one of them jokes, “Christ, if she’s that excited for fifty euros, I’ll give her a hundred for a blowjob.”

Ugh. What a sleazebag. Unfortunately, Jay heard him say it, too. He gets up from his seat, his happy transforming into pissed in a heartbeat.

“The fuck did you just say?” he asks as he steps over to the two men.

The one who said it is too drunk to realise he should be scared. He gives Jay a dirty look. “I said,” he enunciates, “I’ll give her a hundred for a blowjob. Those lips would be so worth it.”

His friend is in hysterics now, and I go to Jay, placing a hand on his elbow. “Leave it. They’re just arseholes.”

“Yeah, Jay,” Jessie adds in a serious voice. “Leave it.”

We might as well be invisible, though, because it’s like Jay can’t even hear us. He takes another step toward the guy who’d mouthed off, staring down at him furiously. “Apologise now.”

The guy makes an unattractive snort. “Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you,” says Jay before shoving him in the shoulder. Outraged, the man loosens his tie and rises from his seat.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” he spits, then looks to Jessie. “You work here – shouldn’t you be calling security?”

“I should be,” she answers with a raised eyebrow. “I’m thinking I’ll give it another minute, though.”

“This is ridiculous. This piece of shit just attacked me. I’ll be having words with your manager.”

“You go right ahead.”

Jay gets up in the man’s face, and his friend tries to calm him down. “Look, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, yeah? ’Cause this fuck seems to be asking for it.”

“Christ, I’m sorry if I made some joke about your slut over there. I was only having a laugh.”

“Okay, let’s see how funny you find this,” says Jay before landing a punch to his jaw and then an uppercut to his ribs. The man stumbles back into his seat, clutching his jaw in his hand, a look of shock on his face. I don’t think he believed Jay was actually going to hit him. Even I didn’t really believe it until it was happening.

Seconds later the bouncer from earlier is on Jay, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him away from the businessmen. Jay easily slips out of the bouncer’s hold, side-stepping toward me.

“Sorry to abandon you so soon, Jess, but it seems I’ve outstayed my welcome.” He salutes her with a grin.

“No problem,” says Jessie, and then Jay grabs my hand in his.

“Come on, Watson. I think it’s time to vamoose.”

He yanks me off my stool, still dodging the bouncer, who’s advancing on us and shouting at Jay that he’s barred. Hand in hand, we run out of the casino and halfway down the street before I have to stop. Running and heels do not go together.

Out of breath, I clutch my chest before bursting into a fit of giggles. I don’t know why I’m laughing. I think it might be delayed shock or something. Jay stands in front of me and starts laughing, too.

It takes a while for us to calm down. When we finally do, Jay steps out to the side of the road and flags down a taxi. It’s only when we’re both seated in the back that I finally have enough breath to speak.

I can’t believe you punched that man. That was just crazy. I seriously didn’t think you’d actually do it,” I say, my breathing still heavy. The taxi driver perks his ears up to listen. I don’t think I’ve experienced this much excitement since Dad sprang a surprise trip to Disneyland Paris on me for my eleventh birthday.

Jay turns to me in his seat and reaches out to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. He’s looking at me intensely, emotions in his eyes that I don’t understand. “I can’t let assholes get away with talking to you like that. No way. You’re too good for that shit.”

His words make me shiver. And I hate to admit it, but some deep inner part of me loves the fact that he’d defend my honour when he hardly even knows me. Does he feel something for me like I do for him? Some small attraction? He takes my hand then and holds it in his, his fingers laced through mine. His thumb rubs along the veins on the inside of my wrist and I stare out the window, savouring the simple feeling of his skin on my skin.

Six

As we exit the taxi and go in the front door, we try to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake up Dad. Glancing at my phone, I see it’s almost midnight. I didn’t manage to win enough money to buy a new sewing machine; however, I did end up with slightly more cash than I started out with, so at least that’s something.

Turning on the hall light, I catch a glimpse of the knuckles on Jay’s right hand and see that they’re a little scraped and reddened from throwing those two punches.

“Come on upstairs, and I’ll get you some antiseptic for that,” I whisper, touching his hand for a second. I slip off my heels and leave them at the bottom of the stairs.

He follows silently behind me, and I wonder if he’s checking out my arse again like last time. I don’t have the courage to turn around and investigate, though.

When we reach the bathroom, I pull a bottle of antiseptic from the shelf and some cotton wool from the cupboard. Jay sits down on the edge of the bathtub, watching me.

“You really shouldn’t have attacked that man,” I say. “I’ve had worse things said to me over the years.”

His eyes darken. “Who’s said worse to you, Matilda?”

I shrug it off. “Almost every time my friend Michelle and I go out, we get crude stuff shouted at us. I think it’s all part and parcel of being around drunk men with no filters.” I pause and amend, “The women can be fairly nasty at times, too.”

“Well, that’s probably because they’re jealous. And the men do it because they misguidedly think it’ll get them laid.”

I laugh softly and pour some antiseptic onto the cotton wool before sitting down beside him and bringing it to his hand. “‘Misguided’ is definitely the right word.”

When the cotton wool meets his knuckles, he hisses and curses, “Motherfucker.”

“You know what? You Boston-Irish swear even more than us Irish-Irish,” I joke.

“Yeah,” says Jay. “I’ve got a dirty mouth, but it’s mostly used for good.”

I glance at him. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel all funny and hot, so I hand him the cotton wool.

“There. You can finish yourself off,” I say, standing up.

I have to resist the urge to face palm when I see the size of his smile. Sometimes I think my brain might just be a gaping hole containing nothing but unconscious innuendo.

“You know what I mean,” I mutter as I open the door to leave.

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” Jay calls after me.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Sleep tight.”

I can still hear him chuckling as I close my bedroom door.

The next morning, breakfast is waiting for me again. This time it’s fresh fruit and a croissant. Jay’s nowhere to be seen, but the croissant is still warm, so he must have gone out to get it. Dad’s eating his just as happily as he ate his bacon and eggs yesterday.

“I think it might have been the best decision I ever made, taking in a lodger. He has us eating like kings every morning.”

“Yeah, let’s see if you’re still saying that when you gain ten pounds,” I reply, and take a bite of the deliciously fresh pastry.

Jay enters the room just then, dressed in a suit like he’d been when we first met. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Watson,” he chirps. “It’s actually been proven that you lose weight by eating it, rather than the opposite way around.”

“Oh, well, colour me corrected,” I mutter.

“So, how did the casino night go?” asks Dad with interest.

I make eye contact with Jay, and I think in that moment we both unconsciously agree to leave out the part about him punching a man to defend my honour.

“Great. You’re looking at a girl who’s forty euros richer than she was yesterday,” I declare proudly. “I lost ten euros twice, but then I won back ten, and then I won fifty, so forty profit altogether.” I glance at Jay. “Still not enough to buy me a new machine, but I’ll keep saving.”

Jay gives me a surprisingly affectionate expression before knocking back a gulp of coffee. “Right, lady and gent, I’ll be out most of the day. I’ve got a couple of meetings to find a solicitor willing to take my case.”

“Oh, good luck with that,” says Dad as Jay leaves. When he’s gone, Dad takes his plate over to the sink and rinses a few dishes. My eyes travel to my broken sewing machine, and I notice something’s amiss. Leaving my half-eaten breakfast, I go over to check and find two neatly stacked piles of casino chips. In front of the piles is a note.

My fault we had to leave early last night, so I forfeit my winnings to you, Watson. Go get yourself the sickest sewing machine that money can buy.

Yours,

Jay.

P.S. Finishing myself off last night wasn’t nearly as satisfying as having someone else do it for me.

Oh, my God, he’s so cheeky…and I kind of love it. I pick up a chip and run my fingers over the plastic. I really shouldn’t accept these, but the prospect of buying a new machine today is too tempting to walk away from. I scoop them all up and drop them into my bag like a giddy child.

Later on during my lunch break, I take a trip to the casino to see if I can cash in the chips, hoping it’s open. Turns out it opens at ten in the morning, and there are actually people already there gambling when I go inside (which is a little depressing). At night there’s a sense of glamour, but in the light of day there’s a desperation about it all.

As it happens, Jessie is working on the booth when I go to cash in my chips.

“Ah, Matilda, good to see you again,” she says.

“You, too,” I reply, sliding the chips through to her.

“Funny, I don’t remember you winning all these last night,” she continues, suppressing a grin.

“I didn’t. Jay gave me his winnings as an apology for the, uh, punching incident.”

“Oh, yeah? That was generous of him,” she says. “You going on a big shopping spree?”

I can’t keep the smile off my face. “In a sense, yes. I’m getting a new sewing machine. I make dresses and sell them online, but my old machine broke. Jay said he’d bring me to the casino to win enough for a new one, but obviously that didn’t work out.”

“Did you go to college for that? The dressmaking, I mean.”

I shake my head. “No, my mum taught me when I was little, and I did night classes when I was a teenager.”

“Cool. Well, here you go,” she says, and slides the cash out to me. I slip it into my purse and say goodbye.

I’m late getting home that evening as I lug the big brown box into the hallway. I drop it down on the floor and let out a long, heaving breath. That was some seriously heavy lifting, even if the walk from the bus stop was blessedly short. Dad’s in the living room, watching television. It looks like he ordered in a Chinese takeaway, because there are leftovers in the fridge. I heat some up and eat them quickly before getting right to work.

It’s after eleven when I finish up, tiredly packing the few orders I have into bubble-wrap envelopes for posting. Jay comes in the door just as I’m sealing the final one.

“Hey, you got it. Nice!” he exclaims, walking over to take a look at the new machine. It’s a pretty olive green with a sort of fifties-looking design.

“Yep. And I have you to thank for it,” I reply with a grateful smile. “How did your meetings go today?”

“Ah, shitty, really. Lawyers…I mean, solicitors are a bunch of old windbags. You could practically see the dollar signs in their eyes when I was speaking to them…or should I say euro signs?”

“Don’t let Dad hear you say that.”

“Your dad’s the exception. Is he still up? I need to get convincing him to take the case.”

“No, he went to bed about an hour ago,” I say, setting the stack of packages on the table.

Jay eyes them. “You need me to drop those to the post office for you in the morning?”

“Would you? I was going to go before work, but it might be cutting it a bit fine.”

“I’d be happy to. So, it’s Friday tomorrow. Any plans for the weekend?” He rubs his hands together.

I try to think. Then I remember Michelle’s adamant pleas for me to bring Jay for drinks with us. “Yes, actually. I’m going out with my friend tomorrow night. You’re welcome to come along.”

“Sounds good,” says Jay as he picks up two safety pins from a bunch I’d left by my sewing machine. He links them together and holds them up to show me.

“Safety pins, fascinating,” I murmur past a yawn.

He’s standing close to me now, and I watch as he repeatedly pulls the two apart, then links them back together like magic. It looks like metal is sliding seamlessly through metal.

“If I weren’t so tired, I’m sure I’d be able to figure out how you’re doing that,” I say softly.

His chest moves as he silently laughs. I bid him goodnight and then go to bed. When my head does finally hit the pillow, I’m overly aware of how Jay’s bed is right on the other side of the wall, our bodies barely a foot apart. I fall asleep thinking about how I wish I could bridge the gap.

***

Friday is a slow day. We only have appointments scheduled for before lunch, so once I’ve finished all my tasks, Dad says I can go home early. On my way to the bus, a car beeps its horn from behind me, and I turn to see Jay with his window rolled down, Jessie in the passenger seat beside him, smoking a cigarette.

“Want a ride?” Jay calls, his arm resting along the side of the window. A car behind him honks and then overtakes him. “Hop in.”

I hurry to the car and slide into the back seat. Jessie sticks her smoke in her mouth and says hello to me.

“You looking forward to tonight?” she asks.

“Yeah, are you coming with us?”

“I can’t. I’ve got a hot date with the cougar from the casino. You remember her?” The grin she gives me is devilish.

“I do.”

“I’m thinking she’s a sure thing, but you never know. I guess you’re out to trap yourself a fella tonight, then.”

My cheeks redden, and I think I catch Jay giving her a hard look through the overhead mirror. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of luck with men. I’ve actually been trying online dating, but I’m not sure if it’s for me.”

Jay’s eyes meet mine in the mirror briefly before flicking back to the road. I can tell he’s listening to all this intently, even though he’s acting like he isn’t.

“Yeah, I’ve met a few people online myself, but they mostly seem to be out for casual sex,” says Jessie. “Not that that’s a bad thing, but I’m guessing that’s not what you’re out for.” She gives me a sympathetic look.

Christ, could my cheeks get any redder? “No, not really,” I reply.

Jay raises one eyebrow. “What does ‘not really’ mean, Watson?”

I scratch at my arm. “Well, it’s not like I’d mind if there was sex involved. It’s just that it never seems to get that far. Michelle says it’s because I don’t give out vibes of availability. I give out ‘stay away from me’ vibes.” I laugh lightheartedly.

“Nothing wrong with that,” says Jay. “Your friend sounds like she wants you to act like a slut.”

“Jay!” Jessie exclaims.

I scowl. “Uh, no. That’s not it at all. Michelle is very supportive of me.”

“If you say so.”

“So, have you gone on many dates?” Jessie asks, still turned around in her seat to face me.

“Not with any of the online guys. They all seem so sleazy and only interested in sex.”

“Oh, you’re obviously on the wrong site, then. Here, give me your number, and I’ll send you a list of which sites are for hook-ups and which are for relationships.”

She hands me her phone, and I programme my number into her contacts. “Thanks, that’s so nice of you,” I say.

“In what way are they sleazy?” Jay asks, his brow furrowed. I could be mistaken, but there seems to be a protective note to his voice.

I swallow hard. “Oh, God. You really don’t want to know.”

Jay goes strangely silent, and his jaw is tight. He seems annoyed. We drop Jessie off at her apartment, and I wave goodbye while Jay pulls back onto the road.

“You shouldn’t be meeting up with random men anyway,” he says out of nowhere.

“Well, I haven’t, not yet. But if I do, I have a number of rules to follow.” I hold up my fingers as I list them off. “It has to be during the day in a public place – never go to somebody’s house alone. I have to tell Michelle and Dad exactly where I’m going. And most importantly, Michelle and I have code words to text if we need each other to call and pretend there’s an emergency. That’s only for if the date is really bad, although so far I’ve only had to do it for Michelle twice.”

His eyes meet mine, and there’s something in them that I can’t quite decipher. A minute or two of silence passes.

“I’ll help you,” he says then.

“Huh?”

“With the dating. I’ll teach you how to come across as available. I shouldn’t have said that about your friend earlier. I’m sorry. She’s actually on the right track with what she’s told you. Usually, people who are single show that they’re available through their body language, while people who are happily in a relationship don’t. Since you’re single but are supposedly giving out unavailable vibes, there must be a reason why.”

I fold my arms. “What kind of a reason?”

Jay shrugs. “It’s probably just anxiety or something like that. But don’t worry – we’ll figure it out.”


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю