North Beach Answers

I wasn’t lucky enough to simply miss my shift, instead I woke up in a tub of freezing water with Don pulling my eye open. I was so numb I didn’t even sputter. At least I wasn’t naked. I pushed myself out of the tub, rising to my full height and blinked rapidly trying to clear my eyes.

“Did I miss something?”

The water sheeted off of me then continued to drip from my clothing. Don looked grave.

“What did you take?”

“Xanax and Beer, what did you take?”

I looked around the room, no Jane, no Pricilla.

“What are doing in here?”

“I came buy to see if you wanted a ride to work, Jane and Pricilla let me in on their way out.”

“So what? You just barged in my room?”

“Yeah I barged in after knocking for ten minutes straight.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped from the tub.

Don touched my arm, his hand was warm and made me shiver.

I thought he was going to console me, to tell me life wasn’t that bad. I thought he was going to council me like he was my big brother.

Instead, he looked at his watch.

“You have ten minutes to get dressed before you make us both late.”

Damn if he didn’t almost make me smile.

Defiant to the last, I was still buzzed and didn’t want to miss an opportunity. With a great deal of effort I pulled off my clothes, in a strip tease that was anything but sexy.

When my jeans and panties hit the floor, I pushed my hair out of my face.

He kept his gaze steady, never leaving my eyes.

“What’s with the mansion in North Beach?”

He looked down.

I stomped out of the bathroom to my room, Don followed me, my dripping clothing in hand. I found the towel I discarded this morning, dried off, and proceeded to dress myself. Don stood at the doorway seemingly speechless.

“Well?” I said as I pulled my hair back into a drippy ponytail.

I looked in the mirror, “Shit.”

I brushed on some blush, a quick two coats of mascara and some fuchsia gloss and I was ready.

Don was still staring at me, make a puddle.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I grabbed my purse and walked out of the room, he followed me. When I walked out to the street the first thing I saw was the Jag. My memories were suddenly like dominoes cascading back into my consciousness.

It was parked out side the PP the day I had my interview, it was outside the night of the party—right in front of Jim’s car.

He was never trying to hide it. I turned back to where Don was locking the front door, he had gotten rid of my clothes somewhere.

As he walked down the stoop to the street he didn’t take his eyes off of mine even has he rounded to the driver’s side door—it was as if he was afraid I was going to bolt.

He opened his door and got in. I pulled the passenger door open and slid into the buttery seat. I didn’t want to touch anything.

After a couple of blocks he spoke, “It’s mine.”

“I would hope so since you’re driving it.”

“No, I mean the house is mine.”

“Uh huh, I guess I just thought you were a different person, it’s my own fault.”

“You’re serious?”

“About?” I looked at my fingernails.

“You suddenly don’t like me because I have money.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, I just don’t know you and we don’t have a whole lot in common.”

“Look, everything I have told is true, my father, everything.”

“Ok.” We were almost there so I looked out the window.

He slid into a parking spot, when I started to open the door before the car was in park he reached across me and held the door.

“Look, I am self made—ten years ago by luck I wrote some a software program that turned out to be very valuable. When an industry giant found out I had trumped them in something they were trying to develop, they offered to buy me out. My refusal sparked other companies to take notice and start making they started making offers too. Long story short, I sold out, I made a lot, bought the house, the Pink Pussy and have enough to live more than comfortably for the rest of my life…end of story.”

“Lucky bastard”

I pushed the door open and got out. My last minute entrance into the bar caused a stir with some of the regulars, who cheered.

Behind the bar, I cracked my knuckles, shook the kink out my neck and flipping a bottle of whiskey in my hand, filled three shot classes, slid them down the bar and said out loud to myself.

“Let’s get to work!”

The band took it as their cue to start playing, and as the music washed over me, I forgot about everything for awhile.