Tiffany watched him as he drove them to Bushwick, her body warm and relaxed after the delicious food he gave her, and the jazz music on the radio relaxed her further. Her attention naturally went to him, something she still wasn't used to - as if the image next to her was still a little jarring, let alone enough to distract her... she found that she didn't mind in the slightest.
He was mysterious, enticing: the way he leaned back in his seat relaxed like a cat but his eyes stayed sharp and narrow as he watched the road and scanned the sidewalks, the way his hands and movements were so sure as he drove.
He drove the streets like an alley cat too; cool, calm and collected, he was rarely taken by surprise when someone jumped out unexpectedly, a car door swung open, a bicyclist jumped lanes. He braked the car smoothly, as he had done probably over a million times.
He knew this city; he was a part of her flow of neverending cars, lights, and throngs of people. He knew New York's heartbeat and how to get where he wanted to go, how to use the flow to his advantage. He did switchbacks and weaved in and out of lanes of traffic smoothly, and made her laugh out loud at his precision as he dodged potholes without jostling them - he maneuvered the car as if it were a matchbox race car instead of a townie tank.
"Imagine what I can do on a bike," he said, winking at her and laughing as she shoved his arm playfully.
The way he pointed out places to her made her smile too, noticing the way his lip curled a little like Elvis' when he said certain words.
"Ya ever been to Sal's on Seventh? Best pizza in Brooklyn...An' over there is the best donut spot, but the best coffee is next door. You'd like the book & tea shop down that alley, they jus' opened up last month."
"I'd love to see it," she said without looking away from him.
"I'll take ya sometime," he said easily, almost nonchalantly.
He had such a devil-may-care-air about him, an alley cat who'd seen it all. It kept her from reading him, and she wondered when he'd learned to do that - how his wall was invisible until someone got too close.
It made him all the more desirable, a cat who couldn't be caught.
But she saw the way he glanced in her direction, the way his hand fidgeted on the wheel, the way he licked his lips more than once, the way he pushed his hair back as they sat still at a light.
She knew how to read people. Jack was good, but she grinned a little; he struck her as the type who wasn't accustomed to feeling nervous.
Neither was she. She wanted to tell him she felt the same -
"An' that place ov'ah there? `World's Best Coffee' my ass," he said, breaking her train of thought.
She laughed out loud, his relaxed humor surprising her again. She heard him laughing next to her and she opened her eyes to see him grinning at her.
He was a city boy alright, but the kind she liked - the kind with dirt under his nails and stories in his eyes.
But she got the feeling he didn't want to share those stories - the stories from a world she wasn't from. Stories that would divide them into different classes, she saw it in the way he held himself back... She wanted to take that worry away from him, the nerves he felt as he rubbed his palm on his thigh, when he tugged at his shirt. He was wonderful just as he was.
She looked out the window and watched the buildings along the sidewalks change from shiny and new to old brick covered in graffiti and colorful murals. All different art styles, bold and everywhere, graffiti murals and words stretched to crazy heights on walls and buildings and were layered hundreds of times on the most accessible places. Bushwick was known for its street art.
She reached down to put her boots back on as they sat at a red light, her long braids tickling her hands as she fastened the clasps.
"When did you notice...the cop?" she asked calmly, her eyes cutting to his face.
As much fun as she was having, she couldn't shake it - didn't know if she was over or under reacting to the car parked in the shadows. She wondered if it was just a beat cop, nothing out of the ordinary. Or if it had been someone told where to go, who to follow.
She even caught herself turning her face away from the car to their right, hiding her face.
Because it reminded her of Honey's text from earlier, after they'd eaten.
At work. Cage isn't here. If you come home tonight, come alone.
A dark seriousness fell over Jack after she asked the question. His dark clothed body blended into the shadows of the car, and she saw the way he peered at everything around them, the lights of the street signs glowing on his angular face and the dark depths of his eyes flashing from headlights. He almost looked menacing.
"He parked while we were finishin' up," he answered evenly. "Would've said somethin' sooner, but I was -"
"Distracted?" she said coyly. She couldn't resist, but it was her own cheeks that warmed, remembering his strong hands on her.
His dark gaze slid over to her as she cracked her window, the cold air relieving her face.
"...somethin' like that," he huffed before looking back to the road as the light turned green.
She saw his hand tighten on the gearshift and she bit her lip to hide her smile. She was excited at the possibility of seeing his apartment tonight, maybe his room…
But she was still aware of the darkness that emanated from him.
"You don't trust cops," she stated. She tried to read his face but it was masked again. His jaw flexed as his teeth clenched together tightly at her words.
"Sure don't," he said too evenly. Bitterness dripped from his tone. "...they don't like me either."
She resisted the urge to ask questions; the look on his face told her not to pry.
It was one thing if the club had her followed. But to involve Jack too -
She stopped her thoughts instantly, feeling paranoid, and watched the colorful art outside, passing in a blur of colors. One was a realistic mural of a shark -
"Oh," she reached down to her purse, feeling around in the inside pocket. "I almost forgot…"
She placed it on the dashboard as they came to another red light, and she waited as he looked at it, his stone-like expression changing to quiet surprise as he saw what it was. He reached for it and held it up, the lights from the street illuminating it.
Over an inch long, the shark tooth was dark gray and smooth, and his fingers ran along it as hers had done when she had seen it in the sand.
"You found this?" he asked softly.
"On the beach at the new house," she said, happy that he liked it so much. "They're super hard to find, if you don't know where to look. One this size is rare."
He looked away from it, his eyes running over her face tenderly. "Thanks," he said sincerely, that boyish grin on his lips.
"My pleasure," she replied cheekily.
He put it in his pocket. "Can't imagine walkin' on a beach every day, let alone findin' a shark tooth."
She laughed, "the best beaches are the private ones. It's one of the things that sold me on the new property."
"Ya like it?" he asked, reading her face earnestly.
"I do," she said with a genuine smile. "As hard as it was to let go of mom's house, I'm excited to have a place of my own, away from the big cities. It's different from the regular beach houses, between Cape Mendocino and Point Arena. Lots of hills and rocks, near the Redwoods."
"Cool," he said appreciatively as he turned down a side street. He licked his lips, and she could feel he was hesitating.
"So...ya movin' back after ya graduate?" he asked, his eyes steady on the road.
Her breath caught. She hadn't been prepared for that question, the same one she'd been asking herself ever since she had met him…
Recently, with everything happening at school and work...she had been doing her best to tackle one day at a time, to enjoy the present despite the work she was involved in. Jazzi told her every day which new artists and musicians wanted to work with her, wanting her to be a part of projects, music videos, choreography for stage shows. Even as a no name dancer at NYU, the city was noticing her.
"Artists haven't paid this much attention to a student in ages," Jazzi had told her earnestly that same morning. "Your mother would be so proud...I just don't want you to miss these opportunities, you know?"
She left it all to Jazzi to manage, to tell her when to show up where.
But if the real identity of Tiffany Wingham was exposed in New York, and the actual work she was here to do was discovered, the work that kept her awake at night, gave her nightmares and cold sweats…
She told Jazzi over and over why a low profile was best right now, for all of them. And Jazzi would give the same response, what she said from the beginning: 'I wish we would've just stuck to dancing.'
Jack was the best distraction from it all, better than any she could've dreamed of. She didn't mind putting some things on the back burner or on a wait - much to Jazzi's irritation and worry.
But she didn't want to put such pressure on him, the pressure of knowing she was rethinking her plans for him. Not when they still didn't know each other that well...
She looked over, seeing his intense focus on the road as he waited for her answer.
"I...I haven't decided," she said softly and honestly. "Not to sound like a snobby rich girl, but...I could live in both places, if I wanted."
He glanced over and met her eyes. She couldn't tell if he was pleased with her answer.
He looked back to the road, "you're not snobby."
She looked back outside, seeing the older brick neighborhood around them. He went down a wide alley that had cars parallel parked and he navigated the car into a spot easily.
"Have you ever wanted to leave New York?" she asked as she put the strap of her purse over her shoulder.
He gave a hard laugh as he took the key out of the ignition. "Used to wish for it every day. Thousands of times. I almost did, a long time ago."
"But you stayed... for your family?" she guessed, seeing the conflict in his eyes. "...your real family."
He glanced over and his expression was hard to read...but his eyes were gentle on her.
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "But I'm glad I did."
She smiled at him softly and he tore his eyes away from her to get out of the car.
He held open the driver door as she slid across the bench seat, taking his hand as she stood. He looked up at the building he parked the car next to.
"So this is the neighborhood...our apartment is up on the third," he pointed over his shoulder without looking as he meandered towards the street. "We moved ta Bushwick 'bout two years ago, not a lot of space but we have two apartments next to each other - much to our neighbahs' annoyance…"
She laughed softly and slowed behind him, enjoying the framing of the alleyway around his dark silhouette, the warm light of the street lamps ahead of him. His gait was relaxed as he walked with one hand in his pocket, the other running through his hair. His shoulders were broad and sloped, defined and strong like his back, and his hips complimented his lean frame, the taper of his strong thighs pulling slightly at the loose dark jeans he wore. He actually had a very nice ass for a man -
He stopped and turned, the lights from the street glinting off his teeth as he slowly grinned back at her, realizing she was watching him.
"What? I got plast'ah dust on my ass or somethin'?"
She laughed hard, the noise filling the alley, and an actual alleycat ran out from behind one of the parked cars. Jack grinned bigger at her, a look on his face that made her blush.
"That accent," she said with a big smile once she caught her breath, walking towards him with watery eyes from laughing.
His head tilted down to her naturally as she stepped up to his side.
"Ya like it," he said cheekily, still grinning.
"Yeah, I do," she said easily, her eyes reading the red logo on his long sleeve work shirt as she stood close to him… "Steve's Guys".
They both leaned towards each other at the alley entrance, their faces close, but he stopped and looked over his shoulder, his eyes looking up and down the street. His gaze lingered on the pub across the street, people outside on the sidewalk smoking and laughing under the corner street lamp.
He looked back at her and her smile grew at the resentment on his face. Now he was nervous.
He huffed a sigh, "Remember: this was your idea."
"I can't wait," she teased.
He gave a tight grin as he stepped off the curb, his hand reaching back and taking hers so effortlessly it took her by surprise.
She bit her smiling lips - she could hear her friends giggling and screaming for joy in her head. She couldn't wait to tell them later...hopefully in the morning.
She could hear the loud boisterous voices coming from inside the pub when they got closer, and once Jack opened the heavy wooden door they were engulfed in pipe smoke and laughter. There were people at almost every table and every seat at the bar, and when they came in with the cold air, heads turned and shouted: "Jack!" "'ey Jack!" "Jack my lad!"
Men and women smiled warmly at Jack and lifted their pints in salutation. Their eyes landed on Tiffany and they nodded and smiled at her too - fascination in their eyes. Jack must not bring many girls by...
Jack tucked her hand against his chest as he navigated through tables and standing people, shouting back to almost everyone in the place. Her hand hummed against him from the vibrations of his voice.
"'ey Joe, whatcha know? 'ey Terry, good ta see ya, how's the foot? Margerie, those cookies didn't stand a chance at the apartment - Larry! Ya wise ass, ya still owe me a card game!"
They laughed, clapped him on the back, tilted their hats to Tiffany. Jack was well liked and admired. She smiled behind his back - she wasn't surprised at all.
He knew everyone's name, used his other hand to shake and bump others', and he took her to the back where there were recessed booths on either side of a long mahogany bar, mirrors on the back wall giving the illusion of a bigger room. The pub was old, dark and cozy, the walls made of brick, the booths and tables dark old wood, and moody green glass pub lamps hung from the smoky ceiling with Irish music playing.
Jack released her hand as he stopped at the left corner of the bar and the bartender met him with a pint of amber beer and a shot in his hand, a broad smile on his attractive face.
"Jackie boy! Who's the new face?"
"Tiffany, this is Conner; this pub has been in his family for generations."
"Since the late nineteenth century, to be exact," Conner said with a charming grin.
She held out her hand, smiling, "Nice to meet you, Conner."
"Now I see why you were dressed to the nines a ways back," Conner said with a sneaky grin as he kissed her hand, Jack glowering at him as he took a long gulp of beer. She laughed and Conner smiled bigger. "Lovely to meet ya, Tiffany. What can I get ya?"
"What he's having," she said.
Conner gave Jack an appreciative glance, and Jack held up two fingers.
Tiffany made eye contact with a familiar and expectant face over Jack's shoulder - Mush's - and an entire booth of guys came to life as they saw her and Jack - they had been bent over a card game, and now their heads poked out from the booth comically - Spot grinned like a cat with a canary. They were surprised to see them, and their eyes grew big with excitement.
"JACK!"
"Jackie Boy!"
"'ey Cowboy!"
"What's doin', Tiffany?"
"Here we go," Jack muttered as he threw back his shot.
She laughed as she took her pint and shot over to the booth, the guys clearing the table of their game and making room. Spot jumped up and pulled over an empty round table and Boots pulled up chairs, everyone talking at once as they got another round of beer.
"'ey, order shots too."
"Ten shots, Conner, an' one for yourself, cheeky bastard."
"Where'd my beer go - oh here it is. Now where'd my phone go -"
"Did no one think ta take a pict'cha of the game before it was cleared?!"
"What, so you could cheat more?"
"You were losin' anyways."
"Bite me."
"'ey that's my beer!"
"Glad you guys came," Spot said smoothly as he took Tiffany's drinks from her, giving Jack a wicked grin and a wink. The guys laughed and clapped Jack on the back warmly, enjoying his annoyed expression.
"Guys, clean up a little, huh?" Spot commanded as he set her drinks on the table. "There's a lady present."
She laughed again as the guys shuffled around the booth to make room for her, and Jack leaned against the booth at her side. She glanced up at him and noticed the way his eyes darted to the door regularly, every time someone came in or out. But he relaxed once he looked down and met her eyes, smirking at her. Mush slid into the booth across from her, smiling broadly with rosy cheeks.
Conner and Spot brought over the rounds of shots and beers, and everyone reached across the table to cheers each other. Tiffany downed hers and smiled at Spot, who stood opposite Jack, leaning against the booth.
"Tiffany, these are the other knuckleheads - Bumlets, Snoddy, Specs, ya know Boots -"
"Glad to meet you guys," she said, smiling. "Your faces fit the names."
The guys smiled and laughed, making teasing faces at Jack.
"Aw, does Jackie Boy talk about us?"
"Yeah he loves us."
"We're kinda the best."
"'s that so?" Jack asked darkly, making them laugh again.
"But not the best at poker…" Tiffany teased as she reached to the middle of the table, seeing the hands of cards still intact from when they cleared their game.
The guys made low noises, appreciating her smack talk.
"Oh yeah?" Snoddy asked with a smirk, stepping up to the challenge.
"Ya want in?" Racetrack asked with a very wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Don't ya dare," Jack cautioned. "She's already been warned."
"What? Warned about what?" Racetrack asked, feinting innocence, the guys chuckling.
Spot pulled Race's hat over his eyes. "That you suck at Poker."
"I'd love to join," she said smoothly as Racetrack righted his hat, giving him a sneaky smirk.
"Uh-oh," Mush said next to Racetrack, grinning at her.
Spot grinned appreciatively, "Lady sets bet."
Boots, in the middle of the booth, dealt the cards. The energy around them was alive and fun - the guys kept talking and laughing over each other, teasing each other, distracting each other. She laughed, knowing their playful tactics and managing to focus on the cards played, the coins thrown in as they talked smack to each other. The more beer she drank, the more comfortable she became, and the more they laughed with her.
"You ain't got shit," Racetrack kept saying as she raised the stakes. "Tryin' ta intimidate me, but I got tricks you ain't ev'ah seen, young lady."
"Is that sweat on your brow, Race?" she asked, eyebrow arched.
The guys laughed low, and Race matched her bet with a grumble.
Jack was sitting in a chair leaned back next to Spot now, both of them smiling and murmuring to each other as they watched the card game, and watched Tiffany. She felt warm with their gazes on her, aware of her every move. They acted casual, but she couldn't hear their low voices as they spoke, taking sips of beer with serious expressions.
Spot leaned towards one of the guys - Snoddy - and said something to him, their heads close together. Snoddy nodded and got up, moving across the pub towards the front door.
"Ya know I saved Jackie Boy's life one day in a game of poker?" Racetrack said conversationally, pausing before making his next move.
Tiffany's eyes slid back to Racetrack, caught off guard by his honest matter-of-fact tone. She fought to keep her interest hidden, but by the look on Race's face and Jack's eyes rolling at his words, she couldn't resist. "Oh yeah?"
"That's the story you choose ta go with?" Jack asked Race irritably.
The guys chuckled around them, shaking their heads as they watched Race.
"Yeah...Fourth of July weekend, we got a hot tip off from some associates 'bout easy winnings. Little did we know, they were playin' with hot cold cuts."
"Hot...cold cuts?" she asked as the smile grew on her lips. She knew he was trying to distract her, but it was the way he spoke - the way all of them spoke - that made her pause and smile.
"Stolen money," Jack explained with a tight grin as he dragged his hand over his face. The guys were chuckling, their cheeks rosy. They were so easy to be with, relaxed like Jack.
Racetrack continued. "When we got wise in tha middle of the freakin' game, I made the executive decision ta bet on Jack's hand."
"A terrible decision," Jack muttered, smiling tightly.
"'s why he's not in charge of anythin'," Spot said as he leaned back.
The guys laughed and Race glowered at them. "This ragtag family would fall apart without me...anyways, the guys get wise that we got wise, an' they pull crowbars on us. I told them, 'ey fellas, let's be smart 'bout this - if Jackie Boy here has anything less than a full house, the money is yours fair an' square'."
Jack began laughing next to Tiffany, the memory bringing a handsome smile to his face.
The guys joined in laughing, and Racetrack glared at Jack, "I thought he'd have a shit hand. An' what did this son of a bitch have?"
"A royal flush," Jack said, unable to hide his laughter.
The guys around them roared.
"What happened?" she asked, unable to tell if they were pulling her leg.
"We lit outta there fast'ah than ya could say 'Bob's ya uncle'," Racetrack said as he put his cigar between his lips, grinning triumphantly.
The guys were doubling over, laughing so hard, and Tiffany with them, their laughter infectious and lost among the noise of the pub. Jack wiped tears from his eyes as Spot clapped him on the shoulder.
How strange, the way they talk, she thought. They don't look at their phones much either...
"Scared, Race?" Boots teased. "Still your move, big shot."
"You wish." He thought for a long minute before folding at last, bitter defeat in his eyes. Tiffany laid her cards down - straight flush of hearts. The guys exclaimed loudly, laughing in amazement and at Racetrack, who's mouth hung open.
"How in the fuck -"
"Did you forget where I work?" Tiffany teased.
They laughed and Racetrack huffed a sigh. "Do ya clean out their pockets too, or what?"
"I'm not allowed to play with patrons anymore," she said with a small grin. "Didn't like a girl beating them at their own game."
They laughed, thoroughly appreciating the fact, and Jack grinned at her as he drained his beer and stood to go to the bar.
"Another?" he asked as he took her empty pint glass.
"Please," she said.
"As you wish," he said as he turned to go to the bar.
She saw the guys glancing at each other, something passing between them as they smiled knowingly.
"Forgive 'em," Spot said as he took Jack's seat next to her. "They've nev'ah behaved a day in their lives."
She laughed and Racetrack lit up a cigar. "'s not for a lack a tryin'."
They kept talking but her gaze was drawn to Jack at the corner of the bar, Snoddy reappearing at his side. He whispered in Jack's ear, and Jack nodded after a moment of stillness. She saw his jaw tighten, and she was wondering where Snoddy had been just as he disappeared again amongst the pub patrons. Jack stayed at the bar, his broad shoulders tense as he looked towards the front door, the windows facing the street. Connor appeared with his beers, and Jack's attention on the front door was broken.
It made her feel slightly nervous, and she glanced at the guys - they talked lightly, constantly teasing each other, but they had eyes on Jack and the door too.
Spot lit up a cigar of his own, closing his zippo lighter with a flick as Jack brought over two beers and slid into the booth next to her, their legs pressing against each other.
"Princess Bride?" she asked him as she took a sip.
Everyone's faces went blank, glancing at each other.
"...what?" Jack asked.
"The phrase you said, 'as you wish'. It's from Princess Bride."
Still nothing.
Her mouth fell open as she looked at their faces. "You guys have never seen The Princess Bride?"
"Is it a movie?" Boots asked.
"Only one of the best. My father was good friends with the director, Rob Reiner."
"No way."
"When did it come out?"
"'ey let's watch it at the apartment," Racetrack winked at Jack, who kicked him under the table. Spot almost spit his beer as he laughed.
"We need bett'ah pop culture education," Specs said encouragingly.
Tiffany laughed, "Sounds like fun, why not?"
"Why not?" Jack muttered as he downed his new beer, the table's laughter wrapping them all in momentary stress-free bliss.
