"Can I get a whiskey sour on ice, please?"

"Certainly, Ms. Blackstone. You can have anything you want." According to my boss, youre the queen.

"And if I want you?"

My face betrayed me, as I gaped at her in shock and disgust, but I was quick to recover, "Ill hand you my ap.r.o.n again, and find another job, again."

"Really, am I as bad as all that. Since you know my name, you know who I am and that Im fully capable of providing you with compensation. And if you dont want to have the time of your life with someone who knows how to live it up, then let me make it up to you with this money."

She pulled a flat, leather wallet from her back pocket and took out five, one thousand dollar bills. Perhaps she thought that I would be surprised or grateful. I looked at her incredulously.

"Let me a.s.sure you, your money cannot a.s.suage your guilt," I know this personally. "nor can it buy my forgiveness. And I know all about living it up. Thats how I ended up a waitress."

She looked at me with confusion, but I wasnt about to go into my past indiscretions. Instead, I sought to give her a compliment for her efforts, "I am impressed with your reasoning for wanting to make amends, and in fact I commend you. But the two options you presented are not going to work with me. Ill get that drink for you now, Ms. Blackstone."

I left her sitting there, completely shocked. I knew what she was thinking because I had thought the same thing, once upon a time. I bought, or rather, my parents bought my way out of more than one infraction, and inevitably it left me a broken sh.e.l.l. I honestly didnt want to see that happen to Blackie, who, in spite of everything, had me feeling sorry for her. d.a.m.n it.

What the h.e.l.l? This is so not how I thought things would go. Why is Chris being so hard headed? What the h.e.l.l is it that she wants from me, if not my money or my s.e.x? Thats the only two things I have to offer her, so now what do I do? Desperate, I pulled out my cellphone and called George.

"George, its Blackie and I need your help, I dont know what to do." That was another first for me, asking for help regarding a woman.

"Do about what, Blackie?"

I explained my conversation with Chris and how she wouldnt allow me to apologize to her. George turned the tables on me and explained how I wasnt really apologizing, I was bribing her. What a fascinating, psychological way to put things in perspective. He had a point. Of course I was bribing her. Thats what I do. I bribe people to entertain me, satisfy me, and be my friend. Oh that is pathetic!

"Okay, George, what should I do now?"

"Simply say youre sorry and leave it at that."

"Just say Im sorry?" Another concept I had never considered.

"Thats right. Say youre sorry, leave her a reasonable tip, nothing outlandish, and leave the restaurant and her behind."

"I just leave? Thats seems really anticlimactic to me."

"Sometimes, life needs to be anticlimactic; its good for the soul."

I looked up and saw her walking my way, "Shes coming back, George, wish me luck." Before he could, I hung up and put my phone on the table.

"Youre drink, Ms. Blackstone." She said sternly. "Do you need anything else?"

"Yes, I need you to sit down here for a second, so we can talk."

"Im sorry, thats against the restaurants policy."

I gave her my saddest look and a.s.sured her that I would square it with her boss should he say anything. She shifted her feet, as if they were hurting, and then slid into the booth, sitting on the very edge of the seat.

"I can give you five minutes, Ms. Blackstone."

"Thats all the time I need, Ms. Livingston. May I call you Chris? Its such a pretty name."

She nodded her head, indifferent to my attempt at being charming.

"Chris, I just wanted to say"

The owner of the restaurant chose that very moment to interrupt me.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, Ms. Blackstone?" He asked, glaring at Chris.

"The queen asked me to sit beside her." Chris said with a slight edge in her tone.

Before he could blow a gasket I intercepted him, "Yes, I was asking Chris if she would like to work for me in my fathers hotel just down the street, but unfortunately she declined my offer. She seems to like working for you more, Mr. Kline."

He gave me a big cheesy grin and then smiled at Chris, before he left us alone.

"I guess I should thank you, for saving my job this time."

"I didnt do it for the grat.i.tude. Look, all I want to do is apologize to you for getting you fired at the other job. It was wrong of me, and Im sorry."

"I... I dont know what to say, Ms. Blackstone"

"Please, call me Blackie."

"Do you have any other choices?"

"Any other choices?" What the h.e.l.l? "Okay, my real name is Melinda. You can call me that if youd rather?"

"Yes, Id prefer to call you Melinda. Thank you, Melinda, and I accept your apology."

She rose to leave and I reached over and touched her arm. It was a soft, warm arm that tingled beneath my fingers.

"Please, cant you stay a bit longer and chat? Id love to know how you could live it up on a waitress salary."

Although it was not intentional, I had insulted her, and the tiny bit of ground I had made with her, was washed away in a heartbeat.

"Its really none of your business, Ms. Blackstone, but it was because I lived it up, as you like to do now, that I had to become a waitress. I had one too many drinks and lost everything. Now Im forced wait on insufferable people like you in order to survive. Remember that the next time you bully a waitress, or crash your expensive car, remember that it can all be taken away from you in an instant. Oh, just forget it. Ive accepted your apology, consider us even. Goodnight, Ms. Blackstone."

Before I could say anything more, she left. I rubbed my thumb over my fingertips and felt her tingling skin against them.

Stark Realties Christine Livingston and Melinda Blackstone To my surprise and grat.i.tude, Melinda left me a regular tip. Not thousands of dollars to bribe me, just a ten dollar bill, which for having only ordered a drink, was unheard of, but still, she made the effort to restrain herself. I was probably too hard on her but the woman just kept pushing the wrong b.u.t.tons. I think its because I was so like her once, throwing money around, bribing people to be my friend, drinking myself under the table, that I fear Melinda. When I look at her I see myself not too long ago, and that makes me afraid. Thats why I didnt want to call her by her nickname. It represented everything I was trying to leave behind.

I dragged my weary feet out the door and across the street to the bus stop. I was so tired that it took me a moment to notice that the street light over the bench was out, and the darkness was becoming eerie. Thankfully there were still plenty of cars driving up and down the boulevard, so I felt relatively safe. Still, I couldnt help but think that someone was watching me. I looked up and down the street, down into the alleyway, up to the dark windows of the dark buildings, and saw no one. I clutched my purse closer, slipping my hand inside to where the mace canister lay, and bolstered my courage by holding onto it for dear life. Welcome to my new reality. G.o.d, I hate this! I hate being scared all the time and I hate being alone. For Christs sake, help me out here, please! G.o.d has a wicked sense of humor, because although my prayer was answered, he sent Melinda to answer it.

"Need a lift?" She yelled over the roar of her Lamborghini, as it squealed to a stop in front of me.

"No, thank you, Im waiting for the bus."

"Oh come on, the bus wont be through here for another half an hour, and I could have you back at your place, safely tucked in bed by that time."

I knew the bus ran every fifteen minutes, but the thought of having to transfer twice more before reaching home, convinced me to take her up on her offer. Besides, I had never ridden in a Lamborghini before. I think she could tell I was waning, because she promised to stay on her side of the car.

I slid my weary bones into the softest leather seat imaginable and ran my hands over it again and again. Not even considering that my feet may smell from having been on them all day, I slipped my shoes off and embedded my toes into the deep plush carpet. Oh, this is heaven!

She asked for my address, and I gave it to her without making eye contact. I didnt want to see those gorgeous slate eyes of hers again, not in my weakened condition.

"I really appreciate" Without warning, my entire body yawned, so deeply that it took a few seconds to get it all out, "Oh, Im sorry, I must not be used to that kind of frantic work."

"It was pretty crazy in there tonight."

"Yeah, I cant wait to go back to it tomorrow night."

I think she chuckled, but my brain was so fuzzy that I couldnt be sure.

I watched her more than I watched the road. Chris had fallen asleep in mid-sentence and I deliberately slowed the car down so I could watch her sleep. I reclined her seat and turned on the seat warmer and drove around the block fifteen times. Im not sure why. I just knew that I didnt want the magic to end. I didnt want her to leave, knowing that I would probably never see her again. I didnt want to be alone.

"What? Oh..."

"Did you have a nice nap, little lady?" I asked her, as she sat up, looking disoriented at first.

But then she looked at me somewhat embarra.s.sed, and said, "Im sorry. I guess I was more tired than I thought I was. I hope I didnt snore, or drool or anything like that?"

"Not at all. You have the cutest snore, and the seats are leather, so a little drool wont hurt them." I teased her just a little, hoping she would appreciate my charm. She hadnt notice it.

"Ill pay for any damage"

"Chris, I was joking. You didnt do any of those things, I promise." She did twitch her nose as she slept, but I thought it best not to embarra.s.s her more, with something I found intimately attractive.

"Oh, thanks." She looked out the window and then over at me, "Where are we? I dont recognize this neighborhood."

"I sort of got lost, but I think this next street up will lead to your apartment." A little white lie for the greater good.

She looked at her watch and gasped, "How long have you been lost? You should have wakened me."

She wasnt being accusing, and I didnt take it as such, but I couldnt tell her the truth because I knew that it would only backfire on me.

"I didnt want to wake you because I didnt want to admit that I was lost."

"I see. Well, Im glad you could admit that, Ms. Blackstone."

"Please, call me Melinda, like before." I never really liked my first name, until Chris spoke it out loud.

"I guess its the least I could do for your kindness. Oh look, thats my building over there."

I pulled up in front of her apartment and we got out of the car. The street reeked of urine and I could see a drunk just outside the door, pa.s.sed out cold. Then I looked up at the shabby, beleaguered building that looked like it could fall down at any minute. All the buildings on this street looked the same, old.

I exclaimed before I could bite it back, "Oh my G.o.d, did I do that? Did I put you in that squalor of an apartment building?"

"You are full of yourself, arent you, Melinda?"

That one stung, probably deservedly so.

"No, you did not put me in this squalor, as you called it. I put myself here and am thankful that I even have a roof over my head. So..." she tugged at her T-shirt and wiped her hands on her jeans, and then extended a hand out to me, "thank you again for the ride, and Ill see you around sometime."

It was the kiss off that I had been dreading, though Im not a hundred percent sure I know why.

"Id like to see you again... uh... too." Lame! "I mean, I really want to know more about how you ended up here because it sounds to me like youve lived a different life before this. Am I right?" Keep her talking, just keep her talking until she promises to see you again.

"Its not a story I want to share. So, remember that were even now, your conscious is clear and you can get back to your life now."

No, no, no! I want more! "Yes, thank you for that. Ill um, Ill see you around, I guess."

"Good night."

And with that, she walked up the five steps to the front door, bent over the b.u.m and slipped a ten dollar bill into his hands, then walked inside. Ten dollars? Was that the ten spot that I left her as a tip? Well s.h.i.t. I didnt need a brick to hit me on the head to make it any clearer.

Chapter Five.

Sleepless Nights Christine Livingston "Blackie, Im so glad to see you. Are you hungry?" My kitten greeted me at the door as I walked in. What a difference it made in my mood. Leaving Melinda on the doorstep made me feel unsettled somehow. But I will have to wonder why later. Right now all I want to do is feed the kitten and go to bed. Im exhausted.

I fed Blackie some tuna, and played with her for a little bit, and then I collapsed on the bed, shoes and all. I might have nodded off for a moment. d.a.m.n it, whats wrong with me? Ive asked that question before, and never actually found an answer to it.

"Was I so wrong?" I asked my kitten. "Shes trouble and has been from day one. Sure, she apologized to me, and sure, she gave me a lift home, but now she wants something for her good deeds... doesnt she?"

Blackie meowed at me, and I smiled. "You dont understand, Blackie. She wants to know what happened to me, and its just too painful to tell, especially to her. She would only laugh at my ignorance."

I set the kitten down on the floor and got up to put fresh water in her dish with fresh water. It was a mindless activity so that I could distract myself. It didnt work.

I was angry and I wasnt sure why. It was probably because she had everything, and I had nothing. Blackie growled and at first I thought it was at me, and I apologized.

"Youre absolutely right, Blackie, she doesnt have you."

But I wasnt really angry at Melinda, I was angry at myself. It was entirely my fault for getting in this predicament in the first place. And then it hit me. I slammed the door on any thought of friendship with Melinda, because she is who I was and I dont want to go backwards again. I want to go forward. The only way we can be friends is if she sobers up and plays nice. She was sober tonight...

Blackie continued to growl and thats when I noticed a tiny mouse poking its head out of a new hole in the baseboard. d.a.m.n it! I took some of the newspapers I used for Blackies litter box and stuff it into the hole. That wont keep the rodent out for long, but Ill ask the landlord later about plugging it up permanently.

"Whos a good mouser? You deserve a treat for your bravery." Blackie purred and flicked her tail as if she knew her actions had saved my life. I gave her a piece of tuna and she gobbled it down whole.

I flopped back down on the bed again, while Blackie inspected the hole in the wall. Then I got up and paced, and then I laid down and stared at the ceiling, and then...