Chapter Four
--
"Hey Shel!" a chorus rang out as she entered the small cafe.
Michelle laughed easily as she hopped up onto a barstool. "Hey guys! Jason...hit me with a glass of the sparkly stuff."
The dark-haired bartender poured a glass of sparkling wine. "Open mic tonight, Shelley...ya gonna grace us?"
"Not on your life, dude. Order me up a batch of hot wings, would ya? Lotsa blue cheese and celery," she demanded, sipping the wine. "Don't forget the damned celery."
"C'mon Shel," Marsha interjected before calling out her drink order to Liam, the second bartender. "How long have you been coming here...when will you ever give in to us?"
"Ummm...when pigs fly."
"You'll give in one day, Shel-bell. I know you will," Jason insisted.
"Shut up and order my wings," she snapped not unkindly while Jason poured drinks for the couple that sat down next to her.
Michelle chatted with the staff and a few of the regular patrons for over an hour. Nick hadn't showed up, and even though she knew he wouldn't she couldn't fool herself that she was disappointed.
"Shel, need a refill?" Jason asked, eyeing her empty glass. "Hey sorry about the wings...I forgot to put the order in. Should be up in a minute."
"Yeah, hit me again. No biggie about the wings, I'm starting to lose my appetite anyway," she admitted. She turned toward the stage and watched as the equipment was set up. Open mic here was a lot like karaoke without the monitors. Sighing heavily she turned back to her drink just as a plate of hot wings was set in front of her.
Marsha glided up to Michelle's side. "Hey princess, there's a tall dark and handsome asking for you at the hostess stand. 'Kay if I send him..."
Michelle glanced at the doorway. He actually showed up. "Sure, Marsh..." She swallowed hard. Why was she suddenly so nervous? "Jason! Where's my celery?"
"Here's your damned..." Jason stopped in mid-sentence.
"Shelley, forgive my lateness," Nick apologized sincerely when he drew near.
"No apologies necessary, Nicholas. I've just been catching up with some friends," she replied turning in his direction. Be still my heart! She felt suddenly underdressed when she looked him over. Armani slacks, crisp white dress shirt, expensive leather shoes.
"Nevertheless, I did not mean to be so late." He smiled as he sat on the barstool next to her. "Is this dinner?"
"Um...sorry. D.A. behind the bar forgot to put my order in when I got here. I have a weakness for Buffalo wings. They would have been gone by the time you arrived...never to know my most debilitating secret," she admitted with a grin and a wink while picking up a wing and dunking it in the blue cheese dressing. "Help yourself. Oh...garçon...a drink for my friend here!"
Nick chuckled. She was quite charming in an odd sort of way. Why had he never noticed that watching someone eat a chicken wing could be so erotic? It had to be the way she sucked the sauce from her fingertips when she finished the wing. "Whatever she's having," he said as the bartender approached.
"Sure sure...call me a D.A. and then expect me to wait on you, eh, Shelley- girl?" Jason asked with slight indignation. "Where you from buddy?"
Nick blinked at the hint of animosity in the man's voice. "Greece. And pardon me for asking, but what is a D.A.?"
Michelle choked on her wine and waved off both Nick and Jason's attempt at patting her back. "I'm fine...fine." She laughed then and added, "DA is an acronym for dumbass."
Jason wasn't done with his questions. He had known Shelley for years and rarely did anyone other than family call her Shelley. He should know. "Hey, I'm workin' here. Paying customers come first, Shel," he whined. "Now, back to you, sir. What brings you to San Fran from Greece?"
"I was looking for a change in my life and the opportunity presented itself," he answered simply. If he were to say the true reason he moved to San Francisco, it would make him sound like a lovesick puppy following Rae the way he had. If truth be told, he had been tired of the two-week-a-year relationship and wanted more. He had gone about it the wrong way, but what's done is done.
"So you work with Shelley?" Jason asked, eyeing the man closely.
"Jas, is it Spanish Inquisition Night and you forgot to tell me?" Shel quipped. "Nick is a surgeon at the hospital. Yes, we've worked together. Go..." she shoo'd him away. "Pretend you're working here."
"No...it's open mic and you're going to sing," Jason insisted with a slight thump to the bar.
"You are?" Nick asked hopefully and picked up a wing.
Michelle watched his lips envelope the tender piece of chicken and suddenly wished she were being served to him on a platter. "Noooo...I'm not. I haven't been on stage since I paid the last of my college tuition. "
"Too bad," Nick commented before sipping his wine. "You must be good if it paid for college."
Michelle laughed and shook her head. "Nicholas, Elmer Fudd would sound good after a few drinks."
"Someday, Shelley...someday," Jason mumbled as he moved away.
Nick watched the bartender while he waited on his other customers. Jason continuously glanced in their direction and Nick wondered just what the relationship was between him and Michelle. "Your friend, Jason...doesn't seem to like me much."
Michelle raised a brow. "Jason? Well, he's a bit protective, I guess. He..."
Nick noticed the sadness that crept into her features. Much like earlier in the cafeteria. "Shelley..."
"Hey," she cried, looking up at him. "Who said you could call me Shelley?"
"A not so subtle way of changing the subject. Me, I said...I like the way it sounds," he admitted.
And I love the way it sounds coming from your lips. If you continue to smile like that, you could damn well get away with a lot more than calling me Shelley. "Very well, Nicky."
Nick couldn't help but laugh. "Fair enough. But do me one favor...don't call me Nicky at work."
Michelle nodded. "Agreed. Nicholas at work...and Nicky at play."
"Ooh, now that sounds interesting," Marsha interrupted. "Do you two want a table?"
"Please," Michelle answered. It might be best considering Jason's constant staring.
Marsha carried their drinks over to the out-of-the-way corner table. Once settled, Nick asked, "so what's the story with Jason?"
Michelle opened her mouth to answer just as the music was cued and the first performance began. The woman sang "The Power of Love" slightly off key. "Ew...I'm suddenly not wanting to be here," she called out over the music and grabbed Nick's hand, pulling him from his seat and headed toward the exit.
"Shelley, just where are we going?" Nick wondered when they came to her car.
"Wherever you want to go," she answered. "Do you want to drive?"
"Not particularly. It's getting late and ..."
"You've got to be to work early..." she finished as she slid in behind the wheel and started the engine. "Hop in, I'll take you home."
"No, I'm off tomorrow," he said, closing the door once inside. "I was going to say I'm not really hungry."
Michelle smiled. "We must be on the same rotation. I'm off tomorrow too. I know a place that has the most beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge at night, if you're interested."
"Sure," he answered her smile with his own.
"Hey Shel!" a chorus rang out as she entered the small cafe.
Michelle laughed easily as she hopped up onto a barstool. "Hey guys! Jason...hit me with a glass of the sparkly stuff."
The dark-haired bartender poured a glass of sparkling wine. "Open mic tonight, Shelley...ya gonna grace us?"
"Not on your life, dude. Order me up a batch of hot wings, would ya? Lotsa blue cheese and celery," she demanded, sipping the wine. "Don't forget the damned celery."
"C'mon Shel," Marsha interjected before calling out her drink order to Liam, the second bartender. "How long have you been coming here...when will you ever give in to us?"
"Ummm...when pigs fly."
"You'll give in one day, Shel-bell. I know you will," Jason insisted.
"Shut up and order my wings," she snapped not unkindly while Jason poured drinks for the couple that sat down next to her.
Michelle chatted with the staff and a few of the regular patrons for over an hour. Nick hadn't showed up, and even though she knew he wouldn't she couldn't fool herself that she was disappointed.
"Shel, need a refill?" Jason asked, eyeing her empty glass. "Hey sorry about the wings...I forgot to put the order in. Should be up in a minute."
"Yeah, hit me again. No biggie about the wings, I'm starting to lose my appetite anyway," she admitted. She turned toward the stage and watched as the equipment was set up. Open mic here was a lot like karaoke without the monitors. Sighing heavily she turned back to her drink just as a plate of hot wings was set in front of her.
Marsha glided up to Michelle's side. "Hey princess, there's a tall dark and handsome asking for you at the hostess stand. 'Kay if I send him..."
Michelle glanced at the doorway. He actually showed up. "Sure, Marsh..." She swallowed hard. Why was she suddenly so nervous? "Jason! Where's my celery?"
"Here's your damned..." Jason stopped in mid-sentence.
"Shelley, forgive my lateness," Nick apologized sincerely when he drew near.
"No apologies necessary, Nicholas. I've just been catching up with some friends," she replied turning in his direction. Be still my heart! She felt suddenly underdressed when she looked him over. Armani slacks, crisp white dress shirt, expensive leather shoes.
"Nevertheless, I did not mean to be so late." He smiled as he sat on the barstool next to her. "Is this dinner?"
"Um...sorry. D.A. behind the bar forgot to put my order in when I got here. I have a weakness for Buffalo wings. They would have been gone by the time you arrived...never to know my most debilitating secret," she admitted with a grin and a wink while picking up a wing and dunking it in the blue cheese dressing. "Help yourself. Oh...garçon...a drink for my friend here!"
Nick chuckled. She was quite charming in an odd sort of way. Why had he never noticed that watching someone eat a chicken wing could be so erotic? It had to be the way she sucked the sauce from her fingertips when she finished the wing. "Whatever she's having," he said as the bartender approached.
"Sure sure...call me a D.A. and then expect me to wait on you, eh, Shelley- girl?" Jason asked with slight indignation. "Where you from buddy?"
Nick blinked at the hint of animosity in the man's voice. "Greece. And pardon me for asking, but what is a D.A.?"
Michelle choked on her wine and waved off both Nick and Jason's attempt at patting her back. "I'm fine...fine." She laughed then and added, "DA is an acronym for dumbass."
Jason wasn't done with his questions. He had known Shelley for years and rarely did anyone other than family call her Shelley. He should know. "Hey, I'm workin' here. Paying customers come first, Shel," he whined. "Now, back to you, sir. What brings you to San Fran from Greece?"
"I was looking for a change in my life and the opportunity presented itself," he answered simply. If he were to say the true reason he moved to San Francisco, it would make him sound like a lovesick puppy following Rae the way he had. If truth be told, he had been tired of the two-week-a-year relationship and wanted more. He had gone about it the wrong way, but what's done is done.
"So you work with Shelley?" Jason asked, eyeing the man closely.
"Jas, is it Spanish Inquisition Night and you forgot to tell me?" Shel quipped. "Nick is a surgeon at the hospital. Yes, we've worked together. Go..." she shoo'd him away. "Pretend you're working here."
"No...it's open mic and you're going to sing," Jason insisted with a slight thump to the bar.
"You are?" Nick asked hopefully and picked up a wing.
Michelle watched his lips envelope the tender piece of chicken and suddenly wished she were being served to him on a platter. "Noooo...I'm not. I haven't been on stage since I paid the last of my college tuition. "
"Too bad," Nick commented before sipping his wine. "You must be good if it paid for college."
Michelle laughed and shook her head. "Nicholas, Elmer Fudd would sound good after a few drinks."
"Someday, Shelley...someday," Jason mumbled as he moved away.
Nick watched the bartender while he waited on his other customers. Jason continuously glanced in their direction and Nick wondered just what the relationship was between him and Michelle. "Your friend, Jason...doesn't seem to like me much."
Michelle raised a brow. "Jason? Well, he's a bit protective, I guess. He..."
Nick noticed the sadness that crept into her features. Much like earlier in the cafeteria. "Shelley..."
"Hey," she cried, looking up at him. "Who said you could call me Shelley?"
"A not so subtle way of changing the subject. Me, I said...I like the way it sounds," he admitted.
And I love the way it sounds coming from your lips. If you continue to smile like that, you could damn well get away with a lot more than calling me Shelley. "Very well, Nicky."
Nick couldn't help but laugh. "Fair enough. But do me one favor...don't call me Nicky at work."
Michelle nodded. "Agreed. Nicholas at work...and Nicky at play."
"Ooh, now that sounds interesting," Marsha interrupted. "Do you two want a table?"
"Please," Michelle answered. It might be best considering Jason's constant staring.
Marsha carried their drinks over to the out-of-the-way corner table. Once settled, Nick asked, "so what's the story with Jason?"
Michelle opened her mouth to answer just as the music was cued and the first performance began. The woman sang "The Power of Love" slightly off key. "Ew...I'm suddenly not wanting to be here," she called out over the music and grabbed Nick's hand, pulling him from his seat and headed toward the exit.
"Shelley, just where are we going?" Nick wondered when they came to her car.
"Wherever you want to go," she answered. "Do you want to drive?"
"Not particularly. It's getting late and ..."
"You've got to be to work early..." she finished as she slid in behind the wheel and started the engine. "Hop in, I'll take you home."
"No, I'm off tomorrow," he said, closing the door once inside. "I was going to say I'm not really hungry."
Michelle smiled. "We must be on the same rotation. I'm off tomorrow too. I know a place that has the most beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge at night, if you're interested."
"Sure," he answered her smile with his own.