Southern Comfort Ch. 06

"You're not hearing me, Bob. I can't go. I have the girls and I have to work."

Bob sounded crestfallen. "I can change the reservations if it would help. You name the day."

"No, Bob. I won't leave the country and leave my kids. I can't go," I stressed again.

"Well okay, then I'll change the reservations and we won't leave the country. We could go someplace like Miami, or Vegas instead. I'll get four tickets and you can bring the kids with you. Just tell me where you want to go and when you can get away."

"I can't go, Bob. I have to hang up now. Call me when you're coming home again," I said.

"Cindy! Don't hang up. Something is going on with you. I can hear it in your voice. What's wrong?" he asked. I didn't reply immediately. "Cindy, whatever it is tell me now."

"Someone is watching me," I said in a low whisper.

"Who? What do you mean watching you?"

"I don't know. I don't know who it is."

"Then how do you know you're being watched?" he asked.

"All I know is that it's a man. He's tracking my movements by phone," I explained.

Bob sighed. "Look, with all the men who you know and who would like to ask you out, don't you think you are over-reacting just a little? Have you seen anyone following you?"

"No. But, tell me how he knows the bars I go to, Bob. If he is someone I know, why doesn't he just ask me out? How would he know the bars I go to if he isn't following me?"

"What do you mean he knows the bars you go to?"

"He went to the Cypress two nights ago. He left flowers. Barry said he's been calling to see if I'm there and he calls my work several times a day, but he won't say anything when I answer the phone."

"You said he sent flowers. Give me the florist's name and I'll find out who he is," he said.

"There was no courier. He delivered them himself. And, the card was store-bought. No florist's name. It just said, 'Merry Christmas, Cindy'. I'm not okay with this, Bob. It's a little creepy weird," I said uneasily.

"Have you told Jon what's going on?" he asked now sounding concerned.

"No. Jon has enough on his mind. He's preoccupied lately. I don't know what's going on with him. I just want you to come home. I'm tired of being alone here," I said. "I haven't left the girls overnight with Carol since you left. I don't even let them play in the backyard alone with Max anymore." (Max was my Doberman I bought for protection.)

"Alright. I'll see what I can do, but I can't make any promises. I'll call you, okay?" he said, but I didn't hold much hope that he would be coming home anytime in the too near future.

**********

I scheduled to work New Year's Eve. People were pouring in the bar until we had to lock the doors to prevent any more customers from entering. The band played late and Jon and Ivan were in rare form. They were both so drunk by the end of the night that neither one could walk, much less drive.

Long before midnight, they were drunk enough that some of us girls took the garland and icicles from the Christmas trees and wrapped them both in the tinsel decorations. The pun intended was 'lit up like Christmas trees', but the humor of it was lost on them both.

They were caught up in the enthusiasm of the upcoming Mardi Gras season. Of course, it was still a long way off, but the two of them in their drunken stupor took the liberty of arranging their dates for the Endymion Extravaganza. It was one of the first declared SuperKrewe parades in history. Celebrities included Suzanne Sommers, Kool and the Gang, Dick Clark, and a few others. It promised to be a great deal of fun.

Before the night was over, Ivan had settled on Katherine, Jon had committed to take Christina, and I was designated to Sonny's charge for the event. A little before closing time, I drove Ivan and Jon each home to their respective apartments. I saw them to bed and left.

I was tired and sober and very much alone. I happened to pass a small strip shopping center on my way home. A new club had recently opened there and it was an after-hours lounge. The parking lot was packed but I took a chance and stopped for a drink. There was a line standing along the walkway waiting to be admitted. I took a look at the clientele and decided I might be a little overdressed.

I took up a place at the end of the line. The last two men in line turned to stare at me. They were young, dressed very casually, and obviously curious about me. Their conversation died as they gave me the once over.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a cigarette. A lighter flashed in front of my face. I tossed my hair in the wind and pulled it back with one hand as I leaned into the flame. "Thank you," I murmured.

"Are you waiting to get in?" one of the two men asked me. I nodded. "You haven't ever been here before, have you?" he inquired politely. I shook my head and puffed my cigarette as I shivered from the cold.

"I didn't think so. Do you know what kind of place this is?" he asked eyeing me suspiciously.

"I'm hoping it's the kind with at least one unopened bottle of tequila," I replied without meeting his gaze. "Why?" I asked looking at him directly.

He looked me up and down with a grin. "Tequila they've got plenty of, honey. It's just that I was wondering if you noticed you're the only woman waiting to get in."

I took a step backwards and surveyed the line ahead of us. "Huh. So I am. Is this a fucking gay club or some shit?" I asked looking completely innocent.

The man threw back his head and laughed. "Don't say that too loud. You may have more volunteers than you want to disprove your theory."

I smiled back at him. "Well, that's a relief. For a minute there you had me worried."

"Maybe you should be. A woman like you in a place like this ought to be worried," he said in a serious tone.

"Well, I think I'll not look a gift horse in the mouth and assume you meant that as a compliment somehow," I replied still smiling at him.

"You sure are a cutie, honey. What's your name?"

I stuck out a hand. "Cindy. Nice to meet you...?" I asked expectantly.

He took my hand and gripped it. "Steve. It's a real pleasure, Cindy. You're hands are freezing," he said as he began pulling off his leather jacket. He placed it around my shoulders.

"I have a coat in my car. I just didn't realize we'd be standing out in the cold until daylight," I said as I dropped the cigarette butt to the pavement and crushed it out. "You're very gallant, Steve. Thank you, but I can't let you stand here and freeze for my sake," I said as I handed him the keys to my car. "Would you mind, terribly?"

He looked at me as if I had lost my mind. "You want me to get your coat?" he asked looking at the keys and back at me.

"If you wouldn't mind. I would appreciate it. It's the blue one there with the moon roof," I said nodding at my car. "The coat is on the front seat. You can't miss it."

A moment later, Steve came trotting back across the parking lot with my fur over his arms. The entire line went silent as they watched him deliver it to me and remove his own jacket from my shoulders. He held the coat up and I slipped my arms in it. He pulled my hair free from the collar and looked me up and down again.

"Thank you, sir," I said politely.

He donned his own jacket again and grinned at me. "I can't believe you just did that."

"Did what? Thanked you for getting my coat? I have a few manners I haven't forgotten yet," I quipped as I pulled out another cigarette and about five lighters suddenly flared in front of me. I suddenly had a windbreak of male bodies crowded around me.

He dangled my car keys in front of me. "I meant I can't believe you just handed me the keys to your car. And, that coat? You really shouldn't leave that in plain sight," he admonished. "That thing would bring a nice price."

"I wasn't worried," I said as I took my keys back from him. "The coat doesn't match your eyes."

"Who's your friend, Steve?" someone asked.

Steve frowned at the growing crowd. "This is Cindy," he said with a scowl. He began to introduce the faces that were suddenly three to four deep and now shoulder-to-shoulder around us. I heard a shout from nearby.

"Hey! Hey, you!" a male voice called from near the front door of the club.

"I think you're being paged," Steve leaned and whispered to me. "That's the club manager. Come on, I'll introduce you," he said giving my arm a tug. I set back on my heels and balked a bit. He turned and gave me a puzzled look.

"Your arm?" I said tilting my head at him.

He gave me a sheepish grin and mumbled an apology before he offered his arm and I wrapped my own through it. He leaned his head near mine as he muttered to me under his breath. "I used to know how to be a gentleman, believe it or not."

"I think you still do. I've never met a man on a Harley that wasn't a gentleman at heart," I whispered back as he walked me to the front door.

A tall man seated on a bar stool with his arms folded across his chest stared at us as we approached. He squinted at me and looked me over. "Who are you?" he asked.

Steve spoke up. "This is Cindy. This is Chris, Cindy. He's the bar manager and bouncer."

"You wanted in the club?" Chris asked warily.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Chris," I said sarcastically. "I didn't particularly need to go in the club. But, it would be convenient."

"I think you might have made a mistake, lady. This is a biker lounge. We don't serve drinks with umbrellas here."

"Chris, the last time I used an umbrella, I was twelve and it was pouring down rain. I was looking for a friend of mine," I snipped.

He eyed me suspiciously and shook his head. "I don't think you know anyone here. What's your friend's name?"

"Jose Cuervo," I replied. "We're very close. We're practically related."

Chris looked a little surprised by my answer. "You're a sassy little bitch, aren't you?"

"Right now, I'm a thirsty little bitch, Chris. Is there any chance you could help me out with that?"

He took a joint out of his pocket and lit it without answering. "Do you have a problem with people smoking dope?" he asked.

"As long as they aren't dipping into my fucking stash, who am I to judge?"

Chris grinned and nodded at me. "You can go in." He opened the door and held it open allowing Steve to enter with me. Chris followed behind us and gestured to an open table near the small pool room at the back of the lounge. Steve took my coat and folded it over the back of a chair. We settled into the booth.

"Tequila?" Chris asked.

"A double, please. You can bring the bottle and join us if you like, Chris. Oh, and lemon, if you have it," I prompted. Chris hurried away to the bar. When he returned with a bottle and glasses, I shoved a hundred dollar bill across the table at him.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"Bring another bottle and pour the guys outside a drink, Chris," I said. "It's cold out there."

He grinned at me and examined the bill. "I think we're gonna like having you around here, Cindy."

Chris had the bartender serve shots at the door before he settled into the booth beside me. Steve had his arm draped over my shoulder from one direction and Chris nonchalantly eased his behind me on the back of our seat. He brushed my hair back from my shoulder and took a better look at me.

"Where did you come from anyway?" he asked.

"I work two doors over and I live up the street from here. I've been meaning to stop by since you opened a few weeks ago. I just haven't made it by before now," I explained.

We made small talk for a while. Slowly, others drifted over. Before I knew it, there were six men crowded into the booth while three were seated in chairs across the table from us and others gathered around, leaning against the wall. We were all laughing and exchanging light-hearted chitchat.

I had slipped my shoes off under the table and I complained of my feet hurting. The man directly across from me placed them in his lap and began to massage them for me.

"So, you're from Mississippi, huh? Are you as sweet as Tupelo honey, honey?" Chris teased. He leaned over and kissed my lips very gently. "Oh, yeah. You're sweet alright," he commented as he licked his lips.

Not to be outdone, Steve nuzzled my neck from the other side. "You smell so good. You guys ought to smell this perfume she's wearing." Each man took a turn smelling my neck.

"Can I ask you something?" Chris interjected. I nodded as I sipped my tequila. "Why the hell did you wander in here? Aren't you worried about being in a place like this?"

"I was looking for a new place to hangout. Sometimes, I need a place to disappear for a little while. This place is convenient for me. It looked as good as any other," I explained.

Steve frowned at me. "You're not worried about hanging out with a bunch of bikers?"

"Why should I be?" I asked. "I've been on the back of a couple of bikes before."

"Really? I would never have guess that," Chris said. "You look like you belong in the back of a limousine."

"I've ridden in a few of those as well," I replied with a frown.

"I've got something I bet you would like," Chris chirped suddenly. "Let me out, you guys. I'll be right back." He slid from the booth and went behind the bar. A moment later, he returned with a bottle of champagne and one glass. He grinned at me as he popped the cork and poured me a fluted glass full of the wine.

"The boss keeps a couple of bottles here. No one ever drinks the shit. Now I can tell him I found someone who can appreciate it," he said.

I sipped the wine and raised the glass in salute. "To your boss. He has very good taste."

"I can't wait until he gets a look at you, honey. You're just his type," he laughed. "I can promise you one thing, Cindy. You're welcome here any time. You need a place to hide? You've got it. No one here is ever going to give you any trouble. Right, guys?"

The men all around me nodded in agreement.

"Well, that's very kind of all of you. Thanks for taking me in off the street. I think I've just found myself a new home away from home." And, so I had. I began going to the small club nightly. I told no one about my frequent visits there. It was my go to hiding place and I never once had any trouble with anyone there. Chris made sure of it.