Seven takes a couple calls before we finally settle into bed for the night. I call Jeremy and get the rest of the week off from the liquor store at Seven's suggestion, he's worried my stalker will turn up there again. Jeremy gives me some stick about not working but I know he's only teasing. I wish I could tell him the real reason I'm calling in sick, he might be able to help but when I suggest that to Seven he disagrees. Telling me he's going to handle it. I don't know what that means exactly but I'm confident in his assurances.
Just like last night Seven clings to me in his sleep. I wake up in the morning with his head resting on the bare skin of my stomach, it seems he's lifted the material up to do so. Feeling his naked torso hug around my hips is quite the feeling to wake up to. He's so warm that I hardly notice the sheets only covering from my thighs down. He has become my blanket and I, it seems, his pillow.
Seven doesn't wake when I scoot out from underneath him in the morning. He stirs, sounds a small hum in his throat but never opens his eyes and falls back into his soft snores. I watch him for a moment, sprawled across my bed, tanned and toned limbs stretching across the entire mattress. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. His hair a mess of curls that flop onto his forehead and slightly into his eyes. His lips parted and pouty as quiet, breathy snores fall from them. Seven looks so young when he sleeps, I feel like when he looks like this I can imagine his younger self. See the boy in him that once was, the boy who's childhood was stolen away far too soon - much like my own.
You learn to grow up quickly without parents. Although Grandma Mera tried her best to make my childhood normal, when your guardian is in her retiring years you learn how to look after yourself the way I imagine most do when they move out of home.
I wonder what my Grandma Mera would think of Seven. How would she react to me bringing home a man like him? I know his tattoos would have thrown her off, but I think she would've fallen for Seven's honest eyes and dimpled smile soon enough. I pad quietly out of my bedroom to inspect the pile of boxes still in my living room containing Gran's things.
Soon.
I think to myself. Soon I will get the courage to open them up and go through them. I'm not quite ready yet, but I know I will be soon.
I carry on into the kitchen and begin pulling out ingredients to cook Seven and I some breakfast. Eggs, bacon, tomatoes, beans, breakfast sausages, mushrooms, hash browns and some toast - a full English fry up for the two of us.
I am almost ready to dish up the mountain of food I've fried, sizzled, poached and simmered when I hear my name from the bedroom.
"Lily?" Seven calls, his voice has that husky roughness to it from sleep. I'm about to reply when he calls again, this time a little louder and he sounds panicked.
"Lily!" Seven appears in a rush to the doorway of my bedroom, his hands holding the frame of either side to catch him due to the quick pace he'd moved at. He's still in his black briefs, red marks his face from sleep, his hair sticks out in all directions and his eyes have that glossy look to them. He must have only just woken up.
Seven and I stare at each other across the room, I freeze with the kitchen tongues in my hand waiting to understand the panic he seemed to be in seconds before his eyes found me.
"You were gone when I woke up I thought...I thought something had happened." He explains, voice strep and croaky. I smile warmly to ease his nerves.
"Nope, just making us breakfast." I click the tongues at him and his shoulders visibly relax.
He takes a seat at the bench to watch me dish up our plates. His portion is a lot bigger than mine but I hope I haven't made him too much or too less. I'm not use to cooking for a mans appetite.
"I'll get some knives and forks." Seven announces and moves to get out the cutlery as I bring the plates to the table.
"You didn't have to do all this." He comments when he sits down.
"I know I didn't. But I was hungry so I did." I smirk and he returns it. I like the sight of him sitting at the other end of the table from me, shirtless and rugged looking. My mind wonders to imagine a comparison to what he may look like after sex, is his hair as messy as this? The sound of Seven's moan as he came in his jeans against my leg last night fills my ears.
"Lily?" Seven's voice brings me back to the dinner table.
"Sorry, what?" I shake my perverted thoughts away and focus on him in this moment.
"I asked how you slept last night." He repeats for me.
"Oh, yeah I slept okay." I shrug. I know he's asking if I had any thoughts about the black sedan.
"What about you? Did you have a good sleep?" I ask him.
"It's not me we should be worried about." He murmurs and shovels a fork full of beans into his mouth.
"I'm fine. I feel a lot safer with you here. So answer my question." I pause cutting into a fried tomato to wait for his reply.
"I slept fine. But I won't be able to stay with you every night. Is there somewhere else you could maybe stay when I'm not around?" He asks and I shrug.
"Not really, no." I answer.
"I don't want you here alone when I have to leave town." He frowns at his plate.
"You're leaving town again?" I can't hide the disappointment in my voice. He only just got back.
"Not just yet, but I'll have to go for work at some stage. I don't usually stay this much in the city as it is." Seven explains and I begin aimlessly scratching out the seeds from the tomato with the end of my fork, disappointed by the reality of the situation.
"I'll see if Mesha will come stay on the nights you're away then." I tell him and he nods approvingly.
"Are you working at the club tonight?" I ask him to change the subject.
"Yes, I have a lot of shit to do since I skipped out yesterday. So I probably won't see you." He answers and brings another large mouthful of food to his lips. He eats a lot, his plate is already well emptied. I'm glad he seems to like my cooking though.
"What kind of shit?" I can't help but be nosey.
"Work shit." His green eyes flash at me and I know his warning look when I see it. It's probably best I don't know the specifics of what he'll be doing in the basement tonight.
"I'll drop you off tonight though." He adds.
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot about my car. I hope it's been okay parked at the club over night." I hope no ones broken into it. I doubt there's even anything to steal in my car but I hope it's all still in one piece at least. The strip club isn't exactly located in the nicest part of the city.
"Mmm." Seven smirks down at his plate.
"What?" I ask him.
"Nothing." He continues to smirk at his plate, shovelling more food onto his fork and then into his mouth. I ignore his reticent smirking and begin eating again.
Seven finishes his plate with ease and even eats the remainder of the left overs I had put aside thinking I'd made too much. He packs the food away for someone so fit. If I were to eat as much as he has this morning, my stomach would be touching my knees.
When we make moves to get ready for the day I almost ask him if he wants to shower together, but abandon the suggestion before it leaves my mouth.
Although he made me come last night, showering together seems too intimate just yet for us. I've never showered with anyone before but I would like to shower with him. I'd like to do a lot of things with Seven. But we need to go slowly, he's not use to any of this and a slow pace is what I need with him.
I'm washing up this mornings dishes when Seven stands behind me, a towel tousling his wet hair. The smell of my soap on his skin.
"How often do you take drugs?" He randomly asks leaning against the bench.
"Huh?" I turn, my chin to my shoulder as I look around at him.
"You said you were drunk and high on Saturday when you went after the sedan. And you and Mesha were fucked up at that club when I saw you before I left town. I was just wondering is all." He shrugs.
"Uh, not too often. I mean I smoke pot when it's about but I've never brought it myself. As for that night with Mesha, well that is a rare occasion." I frown remembering the awful hang over I had the next morning.
"Why do you ask?" I drop the pan into the suds of the water and turn around to face him.
"No reason, I was just genuinely curious." Seven shrugs.
"What about you? Do you...do drugs?" It sounds weird to ask out loud. Before going to university drugs seemed like such a foreign thing. Something I had only associated with degenerates and cop shows. My mental image of a drug user was someone filthy, unwashed hair, rancid clothes with a lack of self respect or restraint. Not the image of well educated, socially conforming, respected college students. I didn't realise people could take drugs as casually as drinking a beer at a party and not turn out a homeless addict on the street. There were however a selected few I had witnessed at parties who took their lines a little too often and a little thicker each time. But I have always been very aware of how easy it can be to slip into the dependence of a high, so I'm careful to party in moderation.
"Sometimes." Seven shrugs.
"Like what?" I'm interested to know of his own escapades.
"A little weed. Mostly coke though." He shrugs again, so casually. I've never tried cocaine before. A few of the guys at the frat house use to get on it, but they'd never offer it out due to it being so expensive. I remember Seven telling me about his work up north, about the cocaine he's been trafficking. I suppose you can't be in that line of work and not have tried the stuff yourself.
"I've never had cocaine before." I admit, unsure of what else to say.
"Should keep it that way." Seven frowns concerned, as if he's worried that some how speaking about it has awaken some urge in me to go out and try it.
"It's not something that's interested me." I assure him.
"Good. The shit fucks some people up." He comments.
"So why bring more of it into the country then?" My mouth asks before I even think. I want to push the words back in my mouth as I glance at him, worried I may have upset him.
"I wish I didn't have to. But I can't really refuse the orders from Victor." He lowers his eyes to the floor, ashamed by the role he plays in his work.
"What do you think he'd do if he found out about us?" I ask Seven and move to step in front of him, encouraging his eyes back on me.
"I don't even want to think about that." Seven lifts his head to look at me. Slowly, his hands reach for me, guiding me by my hips to close the distance between us. He's slightly hesitant, not use to making soft gestures but I lean into his chest to encourage these gentle desires within him. Seven's arms link around my waist as he holds me to him in my small kitchen.
"I won't let him get to you, Lilianna." He says into my hair. I don't know if it's a promise for me or for himself. But either way, this is the safest I've felt in a very long time.
In the late evening Seven takes more calls in the living room while I get myself ready for work tonight at the club. I decide against eavesdropping this time when I hear him say, "We have plenty of information that will change his mind. Tell them if he doesn't let the lorry and driver go we'll send his tapes to the Inspector General. Or better yet his wife."
I know blackmail when I hear it. And by the sound of it Seven is blackmailing someone important and I feel like I shouldn't listen in anymore. So instead I put on some music quietly, but loud enough to drown out his carrying conversations and get ready for work.
I feel weirdly excited about going to work tonight. Something about being in that club with the rest of those girl, with a secret that Seven has stayed with me the last two nights is kind of thrilling. I'd give anything to rub it in Destiny's face but I would never break my promise and tell any of them. I wonder if I could trust Mesha with our secret. She already knows I like Seven, and she's already witness the way we act around each other.
But I decided against it, I will only tell her if she asks. And even then I'll be as aloof as possible, I plan.
Seven leaves for half an hour while I do my make up to change appropriately for work. Sighting that he could not go to the club dressed in the jeans and casual t-shirt combo he'd been wearing most of the day.
When he gets back to my apartment I'm finished getting ready and it's time to depart for the club.
I enjoy my car rides with Seven. He always turns my seat warmer on for me and has his music playing quietly through the car. His taste is quite eclectic, a lot of '80s music influences his playlists, and the rest are a mix of slow indie songs and modern rock. I hum along to an Arctic Monkeys song that drums quietly from the speakers in his SUV as he pulls into the back of the parking lot of Club Venus.
My eyes move to the area I pulled up to last night and immediately recognise something is wrong.
My car is gone.
My neck cranes to get a better look over the car park in search of my shitty little 1991 Fiesta, but I can't place it's rusting body anywhere.
"Seven, I think my cars been stolen!" I panic and am shocked when he lets out a little chuckle next to me.
"What?" I snap my head to him brushing the tip of his nose with a ringed knuckle in an attempt to wipe the humoured grin off his face.
"What is so funny? My car is gone!" I grouch at him and the smug smirk on his face.
"Your car wasn't stolen, Lilianna." He shakes his head.
"Yes, it was! I parked it right there!" I point to the parking spot I had pull up to when fleeing the sedan last night. Instead a black two door BMW sits in its place.
"That is your car." Seven says simply and I frown at him as if he's grown two heads. Has he lost the plot? That is definitely not my car.
"It's your new car." Seven nods at the BMW. What?
"I'm sorry?" My frown deepens even more confused.
"Your old car was practically falling apart and whoever it is following you around knows your old car." He explains.
"So I got you a new one." Seven shrugs like he's discussing getting me a coffee. Or something just as causal.
"You got me — what?!" I look back at the black sleek car parked in the lot.
"No." I utter, staring at the new shine to it. There's no way this is happening right now.
"Yes." Seven sounds humoured by my reaction.
"This is a joke. You're not serious, are you?" I turn to him and he nods.
"I'm serious, that's yours." He nods towards the car.
"No, no, no, no." I close my eyes and shake my head.
"Seven, no. I can't accept that. Please, no that's ridiculous. Where is my old car?" I groan. There is no way I'm accepting this offer of a brand new car from him. This is utterly...just utterly ridiculous!
"Your old cars gone. That is your car now." Seven insists again and I shake my head.
"I can't accept this. Seven you can't just get rid of my car and buy me a new one. This is crazy!" I run a stressed hand over my hair.
"You can accept it and you will. It's already registered to you." He sounds kind of annoyed by my rebuff of his gesture. It is an incredible gesture, but it is also absolutely over the top and absurd to gift someone a brand new car.
"Seven—"
"Lily, please." Seven interrupts me.
"It makes me feel better knowing you're driving around in something a lot safer than the hunk of shit you were driving before. This car is much more practical for you. And whoever has been following you won't be looking for you in something like that. And if they find you well that thing would easily smoke a sedan in a heart beat." He smirks proudly at the clear speed power I assume the car possesses. It looks very fast.
"I..." I don't know what to say. He clearly knows how much I detest this but I don't think I'm ever going to get my old car back.
"If it's the car you don't like we'll go find one you do like." Seven says seriously and I want to laugh at how perfectly normal and acceptable he thinks this is.
"The car is beautiful but—"
"Good. That settles it then." He dismisses my protest and pulls his car up next to what is apparently now my new car.
"How much did this cost you?" I dare to ask.
"Not much." Seven shrugs. I know that is a lie, well it might not be a lie for him. I'm still to understand Seven's relationship with money and the obvious wealth that comes from his line of work. But for the average income this car is very costly. If the vehicle brand didn't give it away, the creamy brown leather interior does. Or maybe the slick aerodynamic body, or perhaps the wide expensive rims.
"How did you even do this? You've been with me the whole time since we left here yesterday." Apart from when he went home to change.
"I got Curby to sort it." He shrugs.
"Does he...does he know that you were with me? That you did this for me?" I ask curiously.
"I suspect he knew I was with you and that's why I couldn't sort it myself. He knew it was your old car so he probably knows this is for you, yes." Seven answers honestly.
"Is that safe, for him to know?" I question and Seven frowns.
"I'll need to chat to him." He admits and I nod, like I understand what that entails. Hopefully nothing bad, I like Curby.
Seven glances around the lot, checking that there isn't anyone around.
"Here." He hands me a black electronic key with a BMW emblem on it.
"You better head inside, while no ones out here to see." He says and I nod. Gripping the key in my hand and opening the car door.
"Seven." I stop and look over at him.
"Yeah?" He asks.
"Thank you." I say, his lips turn up at the corners by a millimetre.
"Of course." He nods as I hop out the car. To kiss him in the parking lot outside the club would be reckless, but it still crosses my mind.
The music is already thudding away in the club. When I walk in, Destiny is dancing on the stage and I recognise Penny over in the corner entertaining a group of men sat in armchairs.
"Feeling better?" Kitty asks me as I get to the bar.
"Huh?" I frown at her.
"Are you feeling better? You didn't come to work last night I assumed you must of been sick." She stacks her tray with empty shot glasses.
"Oh, yeah. I'm feeling much better." I give her a smile to hide how shit I am at lying. I could tell Kitty about the black sedan stalker but I won't.
She grabs the full bottle of Hennessy from the male bar tender and puts it onto her tray.
"Shits kinda quiet tonight but they're paying good." She comments and I nod before she walks off to unload the full bottle and shots to a table.
"These are for them." The guy behind the bar puts three drinks on my tray and points to the men with Penny.
"Okay." I scoop up the tray and balance it on my palm. Walking across the slightly sticky floor to the three men sitting in the leather armchairs.
"Your drinks." I announce to them, unloading my tray and stacking their drinks on the small table in front of them.
"Who is this sweet thing?" One of the men grins at my appearance, and I instinctively tug at the short underwear I'm wearing in an attempt to cover myself a little more.
"This is my friend Cashmere." Penny introduces me when she notices my hesitation to answer the man. He's old, the usual age we get here. About fifty, gold wedding band, expensive grey suit. The usual.
"Goodness me, Penny where have you been hiding this one?" The man grins at me and I give him a small smile.
"Watch your hands, Dawson, Cashmere is just one of our servers." Penny warns him playfully, but it's a warning all the same. I appreciate her protectiveness.
"Oh what I would do to turn back the clocks to be a man of your age Miss Cashmere." The man, Dawson Penny had called him, jokes with a laugh.
"You say that as if you're sure you would've had a chance with me." I remark playfully back to the man and both Penny and him laugh.
"I like this one." He comments to Penny.
"I'm sure I would have. Don't you think so, George, Rick?" He turns to his two friends disrupting their conversation.
"Don't you think younger me would have had a chance with the beautiful Cashmere, here." Dawson asks his friends and they both look over to me as I smirk back at them.
That smirk drops as soon as my eyes meet the familiar face of Rick Harding.
I hope he doesn't recognise me from the various nights I spent at his house. But I watch as his brain slowly pieces where my face seems familiar from, it's almost comical to watch the wheels turn bringing up images possibly of me drunk in his kitchen with his daughter.
"Lily?" Tiffany's father utters my name in disbelief and my heart begins to race.
Holy fuck.
"M-Mr Harding." My mouth must be on the floor. I had never prepared for something like this, to run into anyone I knew while working here but to run into my friends well respected father has definitely thrown me off.
I watch as the shock on his face is quickly replaced by embarrassment as he remembers the kind of club he's in right now. Whenever I had gone to Tiffany's house for drinks or studying I'd only ever seen her parents a few times. All of those times they were together. Coming back from dinner, or some charity event. I had always admired their relationship, even from the little I had seen of it they looked in love — even after being married for so long. Now seeing him, sat in this dark strip club on the seedy edge of the city looking at girls the same age as his daughter with his friends I can't help but feel a little disappointed.
Not a second goes by once Mr Harding utters my real name that Penny takes hold of the situation. Understanding I've just bumped into someone I know from the outside.
"What kind of drinks are we having?" She asks loudly and picks up one of the mans drinks, taking all their attention as she purposely spills the drink between her barely covered breasts. With the three men focused on Penny's little show she glances at me and I take the opportunity to take my leave.
Holy shit.
Oh my god, Tiffany's dad is here. I fast walk back through the club to the bar, my heart racing and my mouth repeatedly muttering curses to myself.
Holy shit. What the fuck do I do? I can't possibly continue to serve him for the night, that would be far too awkward. I hope he doesn't say anything to Tiffany about this. I mean, it's not like he can tell her I'm working here without admitting to coming to the place to begin with but I'd rather she not know about my current employment. If Tiffany knows, then our group of friends know, then everyone knows and oh god.
"Fucking hell." I groan and put my tray back onto the bar.
"What's up?" Kitty asks next to me.
"I just served my friends fucking dad." I grimace and Kitty covers her mouth, laughing into her palm.
"Oh, hun." Her brows pull together in fake sympathy as she tries to hold back her laughs.
"I'm sorry I shouldn't laugh but fuck." She giggles and I sigh my own laugh. If I don't laugh about it I'll probably stress cry.
"What am I gonna do!" I groan again and Kitty's hand pats my shoulder.
"It's okay. We've all had something like that happen. At least you're not naked." She points out the only silver lining I have in this situation.
"Hey, if it makes you feel any better one of the dancers was the stripper at her boyfriends bachelor party. She had no idea he was even engaged and he had no idea she was a stripper so I mean...it could be worse." Kitty chuckles and I gasp at her. Jesus. That's messy.
I sigh and tuck my hair behind my ears.
"Oh." Kitty comments and I look at her as she stares over my shoulder.
"This dad of your friends, he doesn't happen to have dark hair, right?" She asks.
"Yes, why?"
"Black suit? About fifty, small goaty?" She questions.
"Yes, yes and yes." I answer all her questions.
"Hm. Well not to freak you out or anything but he's coming over here." Kitty smiles a tight lipped smile at me and collects her tray.
"What?" My panic returns.
"Yeah, I'll leave you two to chat." She slips away from the bar before I can beg her to stay. And not long after she leaves, Rick takes her place at the bar next to me.
"Lily I wanted to come apologise." He says.
"What for?" I ask, too embarrassed to look at him.
"For calling your name out like that in front of everyone. I should have..." He seems to lose his words.
"Ignored me?" I suggest.
"Well yes." He agrees. He's clearly not use to etiquette by using my real name and I hope that's because he doesn't come here often but it's most probably because he's not use to seeing his daughters friends working here.
"Can I get you a drink?" He asks after a moment of silence between us. I'm glad this seems just as awkward for him as it is for me.
"We're not meant to accept drinks from...customers." Is that what Rick is here? A customer of the strip club? Does he come here often?
"Of course, I understand." He nods and it goes quiet between us again. I still can't face him, as I adjust my corset top self consciously.
"Tiffy mentioned that your grandmother passed." Mr Harding decides to bring up.
Oh boy. What a topic.
"Yeah, almost two months now." I nod, not hiding my disinterest to discuss such a sensitive and personal subject.
"I hope you're doing okay. This isn't the type of place a smart girl like you should be." He comments.
"It's not the kind of place a happily married man like yourself should be either. But here we are." I finally look to him and he frowns but nods in agreement.
"I came over here to ask you Lily, please don't tell Tiffany you saw me here. It would crush her. And her mother." Mr Harding pleads.
"I won't mention it if you don't." I cock an eyebrow at him.
"Oh of course. I won't say anything to her about this." He assures me, accepting my exchange of silence eagerly.
"If there's anything I can do to help your...situation Lily just let me know. You're always welcome at our home. Erin and I have always been fond of you, and Tiffy obviously." Rick's hand awkwardly touches my shoulder in a sincere manner and although I want to move away from his touch I know it would be rude to. He's trying to be nice.
"Thank you." I say quietly. To be honest I don't think I could ever step back into that house after this. I wouldn't be able to face the beautiful Erin Harding while knowing her husband watches naked women dance on stage in his spare time. And I definitely can't seem to face Rick Harding with him now knowing I work at such a place.
"This ones not here for entertainment." Seven's voice comes from next to Mr Harding, who drops his hand from my shoulder quickly.
"Yes, yes I know. We were just talking." Mr Harding explains to Seven, who now leans his back against the bar so I can also see him around Mr Harding.
"And what would you have to talk about with one of our servers, Rick?" Seven asks him.
Seven knows Tiffany's dad? By first name?
"Oh nothing, and everything. You know how it is, Seven." Rick nods with a smile. What the fuck is going on here? How do these two know each other.
"Can I get you a drink?" He offers Seven who shakes his head.
"I'm on duty, can't." Seven replies and glances at me.
"Shouldn't you be serving drinks?" He speaks at me rather than to me. My brows pull together slightly but I grab my tray and leave the two of them at the bar.
I know Seven has to treat me like all the other girls, any differently and people would suspect something. It's not that he was entirely rude, I guess I'm just use to what he's been like when he's alone with me. Which is very different.
I take down a couple of drink orders from customers, letting my eyes lift to Seven and Rick talking at the bar. I wonder how they know each other. They seem to be well aquatinted, Rick even laughs at one point but Seven keeps his face held in that usual serious and solemn way he does. Almost as if he's analysing everything you say down to every detail, studying what he's hearing and how he's going to reply. Very careful and couscous with his interactions. I realise now, watching him speak with Rick that this is Seven's defence. He was brought up not to trust anyone around him, and the way he studies them carefully trying to find any double meaning or trickery to their persona. It's almost as if he's prepared for someone to quite literally spontaneously physically attack him.
When I make my way back over to the bar with a list of drinks for the barmen Rick is taking his leave and simply just nods at me as we walk past each other.
I hand my list to the barmen who busies himself with making the drinks. I don't look at Seven, even when the barmen goes out back to the store room.
"How do you know Rick Harding?" I ask, staring ahead at the bottles on the mirrored shelf.
"How do you know Rick Harding?" Seven's green eyes and smirk reflect back at me through the mirror.
"He's my friends dad." I reveal easily and watch as his brows rise in surprise.
"Nice surprise run in for you both, I take it." Seven comments, a hint of cheekiness to his lips and words. And I roll my eyes.
"I'm in business with Rick." Seven talks to my reflection in the mirror.
"What kind of business?" I push.
"He helps me move money around." Seven answers vaguely.
"Laundering?" I question and Seven says nothing but still keeps contact with my eyes, his silence an answer itself.
"Hm." I hum. I guess Rick Harding isn't quite the business mogul I'd thought him to be.
The barmen comes back to the bar and begins making the drinks for my tray.
"Sev." We both turn to Curby now standing between us.
"You're needed downstairs." Curby tells Seven. I catch the small red stain on Curby's crisp white shirt. It's tiny, like a small ink dot on the lower left front panel. The more I stare the more I pick up on the other much smaller red marks that dot a spray across his front and I swallow hard. It's definitely blood, I know what goes on down in that basement after falling down the stairs that time.
Seven glances at me quickly, before he sighs and brings his hands together on top of the bar. He begins sliding his gold rings off his long fingers and turns to leave for the basement. I half expect Curby to follow but instead he orders a beer. The barmen stops mixing the drinks for my tray to get Curby his beer.
"If you don't get a speeding ticket in the first week I'll be disappointed." Curby announces and it takes me a moment to realise he's talking to me.
"Sorry?" I ask confused.
"Your new car." Curby smiles at me and brings his beer to his lips.
"Oh." I don't know what to say. I'm not sure whether to confirm or deny being the new owner of the car parked out back. I think he notices my hesitation because he then says,
"Your secrets are safe with me."
I like Curby, and I want to trust him. Seven seems to to some degree, he trusts Curby as much as he will allow himself. But you can never be too sure in this line of work, Seven's father learnt that the hard way.
I don't say anything in return. My lips pull in a small smile briefly before I collect my tray with only half the drink orders and walk away.
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