side of
room looking like he’s about to commit murder. Not a biker in the room will
look him in the eye.
Striding across the room towards me he continues, “I warned
you fucked up bunch of miscreants not to scare her and not to be fuckin’ rude.”
More silence follows.
Reaching me in what I swear is only half a millisecond, Jake
throws an arm around my neck and pulls me tight against his side. In a softer
voice he asks, “Sweetheart, who said what?”
Deciding that not even with Jake at my side do I want to
tempt fate and set off a display of bad-ass-iness , I reply at the same
time as I let my eyes wander around the room. “No one said anything. We were
just discussing your ah… business’s … well… electronic visibility.”
“What the fuck is that?” Jake asks sounding confused.
“That’s exactly what they said,” I mutter under my breath.
Chewing on my lip I watch in fascination as the whole room
relaxes. The tension literally flows along the floor and rolls out the door.
Everyone starts smiling at me. Giving me a squeeze, Jake seems happy enough
with my response. “Were you lookin’ for me?”
“I need your postal address to get my goodies delivered,” I
announce as I start to turn us both towards the door.
And I need to get the fuck out of here.
“121 Queen Street, Ridge Creek,” he announces as he pulls
the door open for me. With a light touch to my shoulders, he propels me back
through to the front desk.
As the door closes behind us, I try to ignore all the soft,
deep voiced voices mumbling, “Goodies,” from the room behind us.
*****
I spend the next hour shopping. I’m in seventh heaven.
Jake goes and gets his cordless drill and mounts the tin sign I found next to
the front counter. I walk around the room, pick up another sign, point to a
spot on the wall and hand it to him. Without a word, he mounts the second sign
too.
I then spy a massive, very cool, framed print of a motorbike
silhouetted against a sunset leaning against a side wall. Climbing through
piles of boxes to reach it, I struggle to lift it up. Still without a single
word, Jake follows me through the boxes, picks it up with one hand and
announces, “Where.”
I look around the room and decide the best place for it is
above and center behind the front counter. Pointing to my chosen spot, I hear
him sigh as he nods and starts climbing back through the boxes. I follow and
take a seat back at the computer to do more shopping.
Leaning the huge print against the counter, he disappears
out the door. Returning a short time later with a ladder, hammer and various
hooks, I smile as he sets about hanging the print. It’s about fifteen minutes
later that I complete my last purchase for the day and shut the computer down.
This coincides with Jake climbing back down the ladder one last time after
several adjustments to the picture to get it hanging straight.
Walking around to the front of the counter and stepping back
a few steps, I admire the print. It looks awesome. Packing up his
ladder and tools he asks, “Any room left on my credit card?”
Grinning, I answer honestly. “No.”
“I’ll go to the bank tomorrow and clear it for you.”
“Phone banking?” I ask.
“What banking?” He replies.
“Enough said,” I reply with a grin as I round the counter to
open the door for the man and his ladder.
Chapter Five
Pizza
After putting his ladder and tools away, Jake suggests we
head out to what he calls the ‘Communal Room’, to order a pizza and have a few
drinks at the bar. He explains he’s sent his mother home and most of the
‘boys’ have already cleared out. He’s my official baby-sitter for the night.
Perched at a bar stool, I look around the room to find there
are only two biker’s left playing pool. They are the blonde and red-haired men
I saw earlier today. Excluding a quick glance and a nod as I enter the room,
neither of
room looking like he’s about to commit murder. Not a biker in the room will
look him in the eye.
Striding across the room towards me he continues, “I warned
you fucked up bunch of miscreants not to scare her and not to be fuckin’ rude.”
More silence follows.
Reaching me in what I swear is only half a millisecond, Jake
throws an arm around my neck and pulls me tight against his side. In a softer
voice he asks, “Sweetheart, who said what?”
Deciding that not even with Jake at my side do I want to
tempt fate and set off a display of bad-ass-iness , I reply at the same
time as I let my eyes wander around the room. “No one said anything. We were
just discussing your ah… business’s … well… electronic visibility.”
“What the fuck is that?” Jake asks sounding confused.
“That’s exactly what they said,” I mutter under my breath.
Chewing on my lip I watch in fascination as the whole room
relaxes. The tension literally flows along the floor and rolls out the door.
Everyone starts smiling at me. Giving me a squeeze, Jake seems happy enough
with my response. “Were you lookin’ for me?”
“I need your postal address to get my goodies delivered,” I
announce as I start to turn us both towards the door.
And I need to get the fuck out of here.
“121 Queen Street, Ridge Creek,” he announces as he pulls
the door open for me. With a light touch to my shoulders, he propels me back
through to the front desk.
As the door closes behind us, I try to ignore all the soft,
deep voiced voices mumbling, “Goodies,” from the room behind us.
*****
I spend the next hour shopping. I’m in seventh heaven.
Jake goes and gets his cordless drill and mounts the tin sign I found next to
the front counter. I walk around the room, pick up another sign, point to a
spot on the wall and hand it to him. Without a word, he mounts the second sign
too.
I then spy a massive, very cool, framed print of a motorbike
silhouetted against a sunset leaning against a side wall. Climbing through
piles of boxes to reach it, I struggle to lift it up. Still without a single
word, Jake follows me through the boxes, picks it up with one hand and
announces, “Where.”
I look around the room and decide the best place for it is
above and center behind the front counter. Pointing to my chosen spot, I hear
him sigh as he nods and starts climbing back through the boxes. I follow and
take a seat back at the computer to do more shopping.
Leaning the huge print against the counter, he disappears
out the door. Returning a short time later with a ladder, hammer and various
hooks, I smile as he sets about hanging the print. It’s about fifteen minutes
later that I complete my last purchase for the day and shut the computer down.
This coincides with Jake climbing back down the ladder one last time after
several adjustments to the picture to get it hanging straight.
Walking around to the front of the counter and stepping back
a few steps, I admire the print. It looks awesome. Packing up his
ladder and tools he asks, “Any room left on my credit card?”
Grinning, I answer honestly. “No.”
“I’ll go to the bank tomorrow and clear it for you.”
“Phone banking?” I ask.
“What banking?” He replies.
“Enough said,” I reply with a grin as I round the counter to
open the door for the man and his ladder.
Chapter Five
Pizza
After putting his ladder and tools away, Jake suggests we
head out to what he calls the ‘Communal Room’, to order a pizza and have a few
drinks at the bar. He explains he’s sent his mother home and most of the
‘boys’ have already cleared out. He’s my official baby-sitter for the night.
Perched at a bar stool, I look around the room to find there
are only two biker’s left playing pool. They are the blonde and red-haired men
I saw earlier today. Excluding a quick glance and a nod as I enter the room,
neither of
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