I spent a moment studying his face. I ran my fingers over his forehead and traced his black eye. He held still, patiently letting me look my fill. Would things have progressed differently if I’d known about a timeframe? I doubted I’d have even let him in the door if I’d known he only had six months to try to convince me.
With a sigh, I stepped away. “I need to get ready for class. Before I go, would you show me where you got the coveralls from?”
He nodded and his lips curled in a slight, secretive smile. I definitely liked seeing his lips.
My hunch had been right. He pulled into a small auto body shop on South Mitchell. The street name tickled a memory. I couldn’t place it until the mechanic currently working looked up at our approach. Cleaning his hands on a rag, he smiled at us.
“Dale from the parking lot?” I whispered, looking at Clay questioningly. He just nodded. It explained his secret smile and his interest in books about auto mechanics.
Clay exited the car and moved to open my door. I’d thought I would get a drive by tour, not a walking one. Wide eyed, I stepped out.
Dale walked toward us. “Hi there, Gabby. Glad Clay finally brought you around.” He held out his freshly wiped hand. I clasped it briefly. “I have to tell you that I was surprised when Clay showed up and was as good as you boasted.” I didn’t recall actually boasting. “Although, it doesn’t look like he’s been taking care of your car.”
Clay said nothing in his defense—of course—leaving the talking to me.
“I’m always running back and forth to my classes. It’s hard to give it up for any amount of time.” I shrugged away his question. “Speaking of which...” I looked at Clay. “I really need to get going, or I’ll be late.” I turned back to Dale. “It was nice seeing you again, Dale. I hope stopping in was okay. I really wanted to see where Clay was working.”
“Stop by anytime.” He waved as we walked out and got back in our car.
“I’m sure there was some type of logic to picking that place,” I said to Clay as he drove us home. “Someday you’ll have to tell me about it.”
By Friday, everything seemed back to normal with my pull. Men once again noticed me. Their eyes followed me around campus. Thankfully, they seemed to remember my repeated rejections from the beginning of the semester and didn’t approach me anew.
I did wonder what exactly had happened, though. The suspicions that floated around in my head needed further examination, but I wanted to talk through them while Clay listened.
When I walked through the door just before five, an empty house greeted me. I really needed to find out his work schedule.
Rachel got home a little after five. As soon as she walked in the door, she announced she’d decided to go out to a dance club. She continued to her room without waiting for a response from me. I followed her, needing the company. Life had just been a little too weird for me over the past week.
“Don’t suppose you’d like to come with?” she asked, looking at the options in her closet.
I sat in the middle of her bed safely out of the way of any clothing options she tossed behind her.
“You know how it is,” I said as I plucked at a string in her quilt. “It’s just worse if they’re drinking.”
“Which one do you like better?” Rachel asked, demanding my attention. She’d pulled two dresses from her closet. “This one?” She held up a red dress with a tuck that crossed the middle to accentuate the wearer’s curves. “Or this one?” She indicated a standard black dress with a twist. The real hemline was shorter than the red’s, but a secondary hemline comprised of strands of beads hung from the first hemline giving the illusion of another six inches.
“I think the black one would be more fun to dance in.”
“I think you’re right.” She set both on the bed and rummaged in her jewelry box. “I have an idea. Peter can’t go out tonight. I think we should make it a girl’s night out.” She turned with something in her hand and arched a brow at me. “Unless you have plans with Sir Talks-A-Lot?”
“No, but—”
She tossed what she held in my direction. By reflex, I caught it.
“Have you ever tried wearing a ring? Some friends of mine do it when they want to go out to have fun and not be bothered by anyone.” She grabbed the black dress, handed it to me, then begged. “Let’s just try. It’s a club with extremely expensive drinks. The prices discourage an all-out drunk, and it has great music.”
I hesitated, thinking of Clay. Did I really want to sit here, waiting? It wouldn’t help him get home faster. The niggling concern that his delay related to another challenge reared its head. But, Sam had assured me that the challenger would want to heal between fights. If Clay dished out more than he got, the other guy wouldn’t be ready yet, anyway.
She pounced on my hesitation. “You know I’ll leave anytime you say you’re ready to go. You never seem to let your hair down and just have fun. With that kind of constant tension, you’re going to end up with heart disease or something.”
Her comment about never having fun hit home. I did tend toward the more serious course. When was the last time I did something just for the fun of it? For myself? The double date with Scott had been for Rachel. The party last weekend had been for Nicole. The Introductions for the last two years had been for Sam.
Pathetically, I hadn’t done anything just for fun since before I went to live with Sam. Even going to school and getting an education was more for my grandma than me. Before she died, I’d made her a promise to get an education and find something that made me happy.
But would going out dancing really be something I would find fun? I toyed with the fringe on the dress. Yes, dancing would be fun. The men who I’d rather avoid made it a less than fun idea. I looked at the ring in my palm. The large stone sparkled brightly. It was meant to be noticed, but not gaudy. Would it work?
“We’d leave at the first sign the ring doesn’t work? Even if we never make it in the club?” I glanced up at her and caught her hopeful expression.
“I’ve got your back,” she promised. “First sign and we’re home, curled on the couch watching a chick flick.”
“All right,” I sighed and grabbed the black dress. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“Gee, thanks,” Rachel said with a laugh as I left to change.
Rachel and I had to stand in a long line. It seemed the college crowd favored the downtown club despite the overpriced drinks. We shuffled forward every few seconds while listening to the muted music that thumped from within. Each time the bouncer opened the door it briefly grew louder. The door didn’t open frequently enough.
I shivered as we inched forward and tried not to move too much so the cold beads wouldn’t touch my legs. Eventually we grew close enough that I could watch the man at the door methodically check everyone’s ID. I wasn’t worried. I knew I wouldn’t have a problem getting in.
“Finally,” Rachel said with a smile as she stepped up to the man. She showed her ID.
The bouncer barely looked at her. He eyed me closely, not even glancing at the ID I held out. I withstood his scrutiny, wishing he’d hurry so we could warm up inside. I’d pulled my hair back into a messy knot and added a touch of eyeliner and mascara. It wasn’t much of a change, but between the makeup and the dress, he looked at me as if I were a goddess. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Then his eyes settled on the ring I wore.
“You come get me if anyone inside gives you any problems,” he said. I nodded. He opened the door for us, and I stepped inside after Rachel.