Read Online An Officer and His Gentleman by Ryan Field - Free Book Online

the market with his fists clenched.
Chance closed his eyes and sighed. He knew the old man was in the doorway with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. He was relieved when Mrs. Johnson stepped up to the counter. "I'll have a half-pound of American cheese and a half-pound of bologna..And I guess someone dropped these," she added discreetly. She placed the flowers on top of the deli counter right next to the last container of buffalo chicken spread. Chance took them both and tossed them into the trash can behind the counter, then pulled a long tube of bologna from the deli case.
Later that evening, while Chance was sweeping the floor and preparing to close, Sarah walked over. After Brody had stormed out, the market became busy and they didn't have a spare moment to speak. "What the hell happened?" she demanded. "Why did Brody drop the flowers on the floor and stomp out of here?" Sarah didn't miss anything.
"The old man doesn't like him," Chance said, "so he forced me to get rid of him."
"You're kidding."
"It's probably for the best," Chance said. "It's really pointless to get involved with a guy who is only here temporarily." He tried to smile—he didn't want her to know how devastated he really was.
"Are you an idiot?" she asked. "No, seriously, go find this guy and apologize. Tell him the truth. Tell him your boss is a fucking asshole and you only did what he forced you to do. You can't let that old fucker control your life forever, Chance."
Chance stopped sweeping. He raised his arms and shrugged. "I don't even know how to get in touch with Brody. We never exchanged phone numbers. He only knows that I work here. And I don't think he'll be returning soon."
Sarah put her hands on her hips and smiled. "Well, guess what? I know where he lives."
"You do?"
"We were talking while you were in the back with the old man, and I asked. I was curious," she said. Then she repeated what Brody told her.
Dan didn't play poker on Saturday nights. He was terrified of going out on Saturdays because that was when all the local police were out stopping weekenders and tourists for drinking and driving. So he did what he usually did on Saturday nights: He sat in his dowdy, plaid reclining chair, polished off a bottle of cheap red wine, and listened to old disco music from the '70s on an ancient stereo. Chance would usually spread out on the sofa naked and read a cookbook while the old man chain smoked and tapped his foot to the disco beat. At ten, he'd hobble out of his chair, lean forward so he could squeeze Chance's bare ass a few times, then announce, "I'm going to bed. Turn off the lights when you go to bed." Chance would turn on the Food Network and watch for a few more hours.
But that Saturday night he had other plans. After Dan had groped his ass and was finally in bed passed out for the night, Chance covered his naked body with nothing but a black blazer and crept down the back staircase in his bare feet. He knew where all the creaks and noises were. He knew that when he opened the back door he had to carefully remove a set of wind chimes first. He'd even pointed his car downhill earlier that evening so that he could slip it into neutral and coast down the dark road before he turned on his lights and started the engine. It was a bold move, and he'd never done anything like it in the past. His hands were shaking a little and he didn't take a deep breath until the car was at least a mile away from the market.
He'd memorized Brody's address ahead of time; it was only about four miles away from Dan's market down a dark, remote road where large, old lakefront Victorians made most of the other homes in town look like matchboxes. He knew the road, but he had to read the number on Brody's mailbox several times to be sure he wasn't knocking on the door of some stranger's house wearing nothing but a black blazer. His eyes opened wide when he stared at the front entrance. It hadn't occurred to him that Brody's mother owned The Castle , a well-known