The Impostor, A Love Story (8 page)

“That narrows it down,” Steve laughed.

“Aren’t there over a hundred thousand hunters
in Alaska?” Steve patted his friend’s shoulder. When Steve grinned,
you could see the gap in his front teeth and the gold caps on his
crowns. It appeared he didn’t frequent the dentist for someone that
seemed to have a lot of money. “Shoot, that makes you and me
suspects, huh Randy?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been a lot
to go on.”

“I guess you’ve got to be careful who you go
hunting with, Nicole,” Steve warned me.

“I know. It’s crazy, isn’t it? You will keep
me posted if you hear anything, right Officer Statton?”

“Of course I will.”

“Would you all like something to eat?”

“No, not today. Just two Buds. Thank you.”

I put down the article and went to get their drinks,
a little disturbed but trying to put it in perspective. Brad was
right. I used to live close to a city with one of the highest
murder rates in the country, and I managed to survive twenty-two
years; but for some reason, it never seemed so close to home.

Carl walked over to me. Every so often, he would
approach me with a stuffed animal or rose that someone had bought
me anonymously. It made my day.

“An anonymous customer wanted me to give you this
because he loves your smile.” He picked out the cutest stuffed
animal in the batch. I couldn’t help blushing.

The men in Alaska were raised like southern
gentleman as far as you could get north. Alaska reminded me of
southern hospitality in the middle of paradise. I couldn’t wait
till I could make it my permanent home with Jess.

I beamed, taking the stuffed animal to the bar to
put with my purse.

Steve motioned me over. “Can we have the check
please? We only had time for one beer today.” He left another fifty
dollar tip.

“Are you sure?” I asked to be polite.

“Spend it on your daughter. I had another good day.”
He nodded, beginning to walk away but he turned back. “Oh, Nicole .
. .” He came back over to me. “I don’t know if you would want this
or not.” He began digging in his pocket. “I was cleaning out some
old stuff in my house and found this locket. I was going to donate
it. I don’t have any girls. I thought maybe you would want to put a
picture of your daughter in it. If you don’t want it, can you give
it to one of the other girls here? I have no use for it.” He pulled
a little sterling necklace out of his pocket

“It’s beautiful. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I was going to get rid of it, but I
remembered you had a little girl. I figured you or one of the other
waitresses might want it.”

“Thank you, that’s sweet. Really, thank you. This is
perfect.” I examined the locket in my hands and put it in my
pocket. The men put on their coats and walked out the door.

I turned around all happy with myself and
then realized that Dylan’s band was sitting in my section. Knowing
the tips would be horrible, that they would keep me running back
and forth to the bar for drinks, and that I’d be taunted by Dylan,
I walked over apprehensively. When I approached the table, he gave
me a wink, intentionally leaning on the table so his biceps bulged
out of his shirt.
What the hell was wrong with me
?
Why
did I feel so short of breath
?

I carried the beers and shots over to the
table. Each guy had a girl next to him. No surprise. Jordan sat
next to a girl I hadn’t seen before. Jordan, the drummer, was the
youngest of the bunch. His flawless ebony skin and dark eyes made
him every bit as attractive as the other band members, but he
wasn’t arrogant at all.

Nadine kept trying to hang all over Dylan,
but he politely relocated her hands back to the table. I was
surprised. She was a voluptuous blond, and she made it obvious her
mission was to go home with Dylan that evening.

“Our place isn’t far,” Justin assured the
table of girls, inviting them to continue the party at the band’s
apartment.

“Another round.” Justin motioned, circling
the drinks with his hand.

“Let’s do lemon drops this time,” Trevor
piped in. Trevor, the bass player, was not as muscular as Dylan or
Justin, but he was every bit as conceited. His over-the-top
personality made him fun, and girls seemed to love the tattoos that
crept up his arm and stopped halfway up his neck. He put his arm
around Rita. I had to laugh. I couldn’t believe some of the girls
went from one band member to another like they were sampling
cookies and couldn’t stop.

“Get yourself a drink if you want one,” Dylan
added, nodding to me.

“Thank you.” I started to get their drinks,
glad that they would be leaving soon.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that
horrible man. Chuck walked in the bar with some of his hunting
friends, and they were escorted into my section. I rushed to the
bar.

“Brad, I can’t do it. I can’t serve that man
again.” He turned his head and noticed the perv. “Can you have one
of the guys serve them?”

Brad was still upset the man touched one of
his waitresses. Brad came out from behind the bar and strutted to
the table. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“You can’t make us leave. We haven’t done
anything wrong.”

“I am asking you politely . . . to
leave.”

“I didn’t know it was your girlfriend.” He
turned to the other hunters. “He’s just pissed his girlfriend
wanted to leave with me.”

Pete, the bouncer, saw there was an issue at
the table and walked over to back up Brad.

“I’m going to get you, you little bitch,” the
man screamed, pointing his finger at me.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Get the fuck
out of here,” Brad shouted at him, getting in the man’s face. Chuck
punched Brad in the nose, drawing blood. Bolting over to the table
to back Brad up, Dylan grabbed the guy’s shirt, throwing him toward
the door, and then punched him to the ground. Chuck staggered back
to his feet and grabbed a beer bottle to hit Dylan with. Two of
Chuck’s friends joined in the fight. One threw a drink from a
nearby table in Brad’s face as the other tried to hit him. Brad
blocked the punch and stuck him in the ribs.

I cringed as the rest of the table of hunters
stood to join in the fight surrounding them—the three were
outnumbered. Dylan’s band saw the turmoil and jumped into the
action. Chuck and his friends were quickly overpowered and thrown
toward the door.

“You heard the man. Get the hell out of here,
now!” Dylan shouted. Chuck muttered threats under his breath as
they were forcefully escorted to the parking lot.

“What was that all about?” Dylan asked,
wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Long story. Thanks for your help.” Brad
patted Dylan on the back and walked back to the bar.

When he got back to the bar, I touched his
face, wiping the blood off his lip. “You okay?”

He nudged my hand away, maybe embarrassed
that he got sucker punched. “I’m fine now that all the excitement
is over.” He wiped his face with his sleeve. “What can I get you?”
The blood stained his white shirt.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Let’s not talk about it, Nicole.” Bradley
put the napkins on the bar. “Now that we got rid of him, it should
a good night, right?” Brad changed the subject.

“Yeah, it’s packed in here,” I responded.
“Can I have another round—eight shots and eight beers?” I glanced
back up at him. “Bradley.”

He looked over the glasses.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

As he proceeded to open the beers, Dylan
walked up behind me.

“What are you doing, following me?” I
joked.

“If I follow you home, will you take me
in?”

“Seems like you already have someone willing
to do that.” I nodded over at the girl drooling at his table.

Dylan turned to Bradley. “Yeah, Brad. That’s
why I’m here. Can you call and reserve a hotel room for me?”

“Oh, wow. She must be special. I’m surprised.
Not the couch in the band’s apartment tonight?” I sassed.

“No, I don’t want a hotel room for that. It’s
nothing like that. I just want to be alone.”

“Alone? Are you sick?” I raised my eyebrow.
Dylan ignored my comment.

Brad came to his rescue. “You can crash at my
place if you like tonight. You don’t have to get a hotel. I have to
say, though, I’m concerned too. This is a few weeks now you have
been avoiding the late-night parties. You feeling okay?”

“Maybe meaningless sex got old.” Dylan winked
at me to let me know he had been listening to our little talk in
Seward.

He observed the drinks on the tray. “Hey, you
didn’t get one for yourself. Let me buy one for you and Brad.
Tequila?”

“Uh, no,” Brad and I said in unison, smiling
at each other. “How about a kamikaze?” I asked. “But just one. It’s
packed in here, so I have to run.” I put down my tray for a moment,
and we raised our glasses.

“To meaningful sex,” Dylan toasted, winking
at me again.

“To meaningful sex.” I shook my head at the
toast, holding my glass up for a moment longer. “And to my guardian
angels.” We clanged our glasses together and downed the shots.

“Thank you, Dylan, for the drink. And thank
you both for getting rid of that creep.”

“Yeah, what was that about?” Dylan signaled
him for another drink. “I forgot you were a south paw, Brad.” I
left the two of them to talk as I took the drinks to the rest of
the band and the girls at their table.

“Check please?” Justin raised his hand to get
it.

“Here you go. Thanks for your help getting
rid of those guys.”

“We’re always up for a good fight.” He
motioned to Dylan that it was time to go, but Dylan stayed at the
bar with Brad. I was surprised. I thought Dylan would never turn
down an easy one-night stand with a sexy blond. What was it that
Brad said? Dylan hadn’t been messing around for a few weeks? I
couldn’t believe it. But I had noticed something a little different
also.

I glanced over at the bar hoping Dylan
wouldn’t notice me checking him out. Just then, he turned around
and our eyes met. I quickly jerked my head away and began walking
away rapidly, only to smash into an unsuspecting customer—spilling
his drink all over him. I apologized, telling him I’d get him a new
drink and asked for forgiveness over and over, bowing my head in
shame.

Damn
. I lifted my eyes to see the two
of them at the bar, laughing in my direction. They had witnessed my
collision. Feeling utterly ridiculous, I retreated to Emily’s
section and begged her to go to the bar for my order. I couldn’t
face them yet.

“You can’t avoid them forever,” she rubbed
in.

“Em, you have no idea. They saw me slam right
into that guy. I’ll never hear the end of it. I just want to give
it time so they will forget about it.”

“So you were trying to spy on Dylan without
being noticed, and you crashed into some poor helpless guy and
spilled alcohol all over him?” She started laughing too. “You are
so funny, Nicole. Of all the guys that come in here, why are you
interested in the one guy who you know is a heartbreaker? When I
told you that you need to meet someone, I meant someone who at
least
pretends
to be a decent guy. What is wrong with you?”
She shook her head. “It’s cute, though. I don’t think I have ever
seen you act like this, even with Ronald. Poor unsuspecting guy,
soaking wet ‘cause you have a crush on someone. Look at you. You’re
beet red!”

“Stop! Are you going to get the drinks or
not?”

“I don’t know. I think it would be fun
watching you have to talk to them. Awe, they are still smiling at
you.”

“Em, please?”

“Of course, I will. I’m just giving you a
hard time.”

I spent an hour on the phone with Jess before
going into work. She learned a new song at preschool and taught it
to me. Then she asked, “When I get to Alaska land, can we get a pet
bear? They are so cute.”

I laughed, imagining little Jess walking
around with a grizzly bear on a leash. “We can visit some bears at
the zoo. Would that be okay?” I missed my angel so much.

On Friday night, Dylan’s band was playing,
and the place was packed. Emily and I had worked the day shift but
decided to stay for the evening shift too. We looked forward to
making really good money—the more money I made, the faster I could
bring Jess to Alaska. And for me secretly, it was also a good
excuse to stay and hear Dylan play.

Dylan’s band walked through the doors. They
would be playing at nine.

“Have you heard The Fury yet?” I asked the
table of customers I was serving.

“No, are they any good?” a rugged man asked
me, apparently just off one of the fishing boats.

“They are. You should stay for them. You’ll
really like them.” I winked to the girls at the table—all of the
band members were so good looking, I knew that they would enjoy the
show!

“Well, keep the drinks coming and we’ll
stay,” the fisherman said as he gave me his credit card to open the
tab. “Get a shot for yourself too. I insist!”

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s Kenny, call me Kenny. Sir sounds way
too formal and makes me feel old.” He laughed. The hours passed,
and he bought me many more. I was beginning to feel a little
light-headed and stopped to stare at the stage for a moment, lost
in Dylan’s voice.

“Nicole, another round.”
Customers like
these made my job a party
! “And get yourself another one.”
Kenny noticed me gazing at the stage. The band finished a song and
the bar erupted in applause. “If you want, get some for the band”
He raised his voice over the cheering. “Let’s get them all shots
too.”

I brought the tray of shots to the stage in
between songs. Dylan strolled over to me, winking at me when he
took the tray out of my hands. His thumb gently brushed against my
hands, and I couldn’t hold back my timid smile. The customer bought
us drinks all night. And with every trip to the stage, Dylan’s sexy
grin made me melt even more. I loved how the band played off each
other, and I blushed watching Dylan’s fingers as he tickled the
strings of his guitar.