Read Online The Old Man in the Club by Curtis Bunn - Free Book Online Page B

Brothers, that would be something different.”
    â€œWell, maybe I’ll stay out here with you. I’ve seen Chris Brown before. He puts on a good show. But I don’t have to see him again.”
    â€œYou’d pass up Chris Brown for me?” Elliott asked, smiling.
    â€œI wouldn’t put it that way,” she answered. “But let’s go get that drink…I mean water.”
    They went into the building where Chris Brown was performing and Elliott asked Nikki to wait on him as he went to the bathroom. When he came out, he maneuvered his way to the front of the bar and handed the bartender a five-dollar bill as he asked for two cups of water.
    With the cups in hand, he returned to Nikki, who was confronted by a guy who liked what he saw. She seemed uncomfortable as the young man moved closer to her. He seemed drunk and overly aggressive.
    Elliott stepped in. He said, “Here you go, honey,” as he handed her the water. “Sorry it took so long. It’s crazy at the bar.”
    The guy stepped back and looked hard at Elliott. “This is your man?” he asked Nikki.
    Before she could answer, Elliott said while giving the man a stern look, “Her bodyguard.”
    The guy looked back at Elliott, but detected something in his look that said he was in danger. In his time in prison, Elliott became a master at defending himself and intimidating people without saying a word.
    â€œHer bodyguard?” the young man said, shaking his head. “Yeah, right.”
    â€œI appreciate you keeping her company for me,” Elliott said, again staring deep into the man’s eyes.
    The guy looked Elliott up and down and finally turned and walked away.
    â€œSee, you need me around,” Elliott said.
    â€œYou might be right,” she said.
    They went back outside and found a bench and sat there and talked for forty minutes. It was difficult for Elliott to stay focused on Nikki because he was often distracted by the constant passing of attractive young women.
    He thought he was being discreet.
    â€œWould you like some Visine?” she said with sarcasm.
    â€œSure,” Elliott said. “It’ll help my eyes. I don’t want to miss anything.”
    â€œSo you admit to staring at every woman that passes while sitting here with me?”
    â€œI’m people-watching. Nothing more, nothing less.”
    He wanted to tell her that more than a decade in prison had engrained in him the importance of watching his back, of understanding who was around him and figuring out where trouble could come. He was perpetually concerned about someone having an angle on him, who was around him. Without that paranoia, he believed he would not have made it in prison. Sharing this with Nikki having just met her would have been too much.
    â€œA lot of times I go out and I don’t say anything to anyone,” he went on. “I watch people, how they interact, what they do, how guys accept rejection, how women deal with men constantly approaching them. It’s very interesting.”
    â€œYou ain’t slick, Mr. Elliott. People-watching? You mean girl-watching.”
    â€œCan’t put anything past you, huh? Would you rather I watch men?”
    â€œThere’s enough of that going on in Atlanta without you joining the madness. It’s so rampant—I’m speaking about the number of gay men here—that it makes you scared to date. You don’t know who’s who.”
    â€œWell, I have a story to tell you about that subject.”
    â€œI’m listening.”
    â€œWell, it’s too long and I’m about to go,” Elliott said. He wanted to stay but Tamara had texted him while he was in the bathroom letting him know she would be leaving shortly to head to his place. He did not want her there without him for too long, but he did want her there long enough to feel comfortable and to get comfortable.
    â€œThis isn’t a trick to get your